#spencer reid x y/n

[reiderwriter]

So obviously Spencer is iconic for his wide range of haircuts over the show, and I have this vision of a Spencer x hairdresser fic where he goes to the same hairdresser all the time because he likes the routine and it’s what he’s used to. So like they’re low-key friends bc he’s been her client so long, but then she notices he can’t come as usual and he tells her it’s because he’s always away or working late. So because they’re close she gives him private late appointments after she closes bc they’re more accessible for him, and then they’re always together late at night, and eventually they fall for each other!! And like she loves his curls and cringed when he wanted it cut short but loves it regardless AHH I JUST LOVE IT. Bonus points if Spencer gets to recommend his hairdresser girlfriend to his teammates just to brag about the fact he has a hot girlfriend lmao. I get it’s kinda long lol, if it’s too long a premise then no worries, just sharing it is nice :)

A/N: Hi! I love the idea of hair stylist reader, so I had a lot of fun writing this~♡ Thank you for your request, I hope you enjoy it!

W/C: 2.1k

Warnings: implied Autistic Reid, brief mentions of sensory issues, writer does not care for the shows Canon hair continuity and does basically whatever she wants.

Masterlist

The first time you'd met Spencer Reid, you hadn't been able to cut his hair. Which was a damn shame because it really did need cutting. 

Sweeping up the floors of the hair salon you worked at, you had noticed the man lingering outside, wringing his hands together and pushing them awkwardly through his hair, approaching and retreating every few seconds. 

You watched him through the mirrors, and let him dance around like that for five minutes before deciding that the evening breeze would be a boon during the hot summer night that was about to set in on you. 

Opening the salon door, you stepped outside and soaked in the fresh air before turning to the now frozen, slightly awkward man. 

“Can I help you?” You tried to put a welcoming smile on your face, but the salon was past closing and empty beside you. You should've been heading home by now, but something in the man's posture had you dawdling.

“The barber shop down the road closed down,” he said quickly, as if the words were practised on his to guess moments before. 

“Yes, that's true. It's been six months now.”

“Six months?” he squeaked out, running a hand through his hair as he turned inwards. 

“Do you… need a haircut?” 

“Yes. Yes, are there any other barber shops in the area?” 

You rolled your eyes and walked back into the salon, picking up a robe and a shoulder cover and spinning around the closest chair to welcome him. 

“Well, are you coming in?” 

“But you're closed. Your sign says you're closed.” 

“And I'm still here, aren't I?” 

He didn't argue any further and hesitantly stepped into the salon. 

You helped him out of his bag and put it away before helping him into the robe and shoulder pad. 

He awkwardly stood around as you prepared your scissors and station again, switching on the mirror light so you could fully see his face and hair. 

And damn was he attractive. As you smoothed his hair out of his face, you were met with warm brown eyes, open and anxious, like a deer caught in headlights. Or, more accurately, a dear caught in a hair salon. 

You had to blink and look away as you remembered what you were about, standing up and leading him over to the sink. 

“I'm… I'm a little bit sensitive about my hair,” he admitted quite meekly as you tested the temperature of the water. 

“Okay. Is there anything specific?” 

He sat himself in the chair but didn't lower his head to the bowl, so you waited. 

After a minute or two, he gently lowered his head to the bowl, and you helped his progress, making sure he was comfortably settled. He didn't speak, just let his shoulders relax and closed his eyes as you turned the water on his locks. 

You enjoyed the simple repetitions of your job. Everyone's hair was different, that was true, but there were really only so many ways to wash hair. 

You rinsed his hair thoroughly, keeping the water away from his face and ears with a face guard before beginning to lather it up. 

For a man who hadn't seen the inside of a salon in six months and likely a hairbrush in the same length of time, his hair was healthy. 

De-tangling as you went, you ran your hands through the lengths of his hair, taking note of how it fell, which parts were healthy, and which had developed split ends. Then you began massaging his head, working the shampoo into his roots, making sure his scalp was free from any possible dirt or dry skin. 

This was the best part of the haircut for you, and you knew your regular clients enjoyed it greatly as well. Which is why you probably shouldn't have been too surprised when the man fell asleep. 

It took you a few minutes to realize that was what happened, the face guard obscuring his face from your vision. When you squeezed the water from his hair, patted it dry, and twisted it into a towel so the water wouldn't run down his back, you had no clue that he was away with the fairies. 

It wasn't until you asked him to stand, and he didn't even move that you moved around the sink and lifted the face guard. 

If he seemed anxious awake, it had melted away now. He looked younger asleep, more calm and confident somehow. His eyelashes were long, a fact you only noticed when you leaned in to get a better look at him. 

It was your hand unconsciously tracing a hand along his jaw that woke him back up, and for a second, you just stared at each other, faces inches apart. 

“I'm.. I'm so sorry, I should go. Thank you for… I should go,” he said hurriedly, pulling the robes and towels off and snatching his bag up, running out the door. 

“Wait, your hair,” you called after him, but he was gone. 

And he hadn't paid. 

It took a week for you to collect the payment, though you couldn't care less about the money anyway. 

But a week thinking about the man's delicate features, his shy smile and stutter, and you were very distracted. 

Thinking about him had become your full-time job, as much as cutting hair had, and you'd had a few close encounters with the scissors when you were lost in thought. 

You'd been thinking up back stories for the man ranging from the romantic to the obscure to the downright realistic. So, a week later, you found yourself behind on work and needing to stay late, just as he stepped into the shop a second time. 

“Hello?” You shouted from the backroom, hearing the doorbell jingle as it opened. “We're actually closed right now, so- oh.” 

He stood awkwardly in the door, his face already flushed slightly. 

“Hi.” 

“Hi,” you said, trying to stop the grin spreading across your face. You didn't want to scare him off a second time. 

“Last time, I… kinda ran away. I was… I'm not the best with-” 

“With haircuts?” 

“With change.” You both nodded at that, awkwardly staring at each other. 

“So…?” You lead, trying to encourage him to introduce himself, hoping he would reveal something you didn't already know. 

“You're closed again, but could you cut my hair?” He asked, pushing the long locks back on his head as he stood a little taller. 

“It would be my pleasure…” you trailed off as a question, needing to know his name. 

“Spencer. Spencer Reid. Doctor… just Spencer is fine if you'd prefer.” 

“I'm Y/N. Come and take a seat.” 

You slid him into the robes once again and got through a hair wash without any accidental naps this time. Though you did notice that he seemed to be enjoying it just as much. 

His sighs left you feeling hot, your heart beating as you focused on his hair to draw your gaze from his lips. 

When he was back I'm front of the mirror, he again looked like a scared cat that had been backed into the corner. 

“So, what'll it be, Spencer?” You asked cheerily, combing your hand through his locks to detangle them. 

“Hmm? Oh, a water would be nice.” 

“For your hair, Spencer. What haircut do you want?” 

“Oh! Oh, um, just a…just a haircut.” 

Your face scrunched up in confusion as he doubled down. 

“But what kind of haircut?” 

“What kind?” 

You pulled away from his chair for a minute and went to grab a cut reference book. 

“Okay, so we've got undercuts, or trims, I can do pompadour or bowl cut or-” 

You looked at Spencer's face again and saw that he looked more than confused. 

“How about I just cut your hair and after you tell me if you like it or not?” 

He nodded and gave you a weak smile as you grabbed your scissors. 

Twenty minutes of silence later, and you felt Spencer exhale in relief as you dusted off the back of his neck and pulled the robes off of his clothes. 

You'd gone for a shorter cut, but his curly hair had such a nice natural texture that you left it a bit longer on top. Without his hair in his face, his jawline was sharper, his eyes brighter, and you were somehow more infatuated. 

He stood up shyly and you smiled at how good he looked. 

“Okay, perfect! Let me just-” You lifted your hand and smoothed out some of his hair, picking up some strands and pushing them back and forth until it was just right. 

He caught your hand just as you were about to pull away, and you suddenly realized how close he was. Or more accurately how close you had gotten. It was like you were breathing the same air. 

“D-Do you like it?” You asked, voice small and high as it battled your heartbeat to be heard. 

“Yeah. I like it. It looks… it looks like a haircut.” 

You giggled as his grip became gentler, and your hand fell down to your side, brushing his chest gently as it descended. 

“How much do I owe you?” He asked, and you led him over to the register to complete the payment. 

“Thank you,” he said as he grabbed his bags to head out the door. 

“Just doing my job. I'll see you in six weeks,” you said, waving him off. 

“What for?” He asked, voice confused but bright. He sounded almost hopeful. 

“For your next haircut, Spencer.” 

He smiled and waved back as he walked back into the dark and disappeared down the street. 

No one could ever accuse Spencer Reid of being forgetful, and six weeks later, he was back in your chair. 

Except he didn't arrive at 11pm this time, but instead 11am. 

The other customers and stylists gawked at the man as he walked in, and you thanked the gods that your seat was free as he met your eyes. 

“Hi.” 

“Spencer! You're back.” 

He nodded shyly, head hanging a little as he ignored the many looks from the women in the room and the eruption of whispers and loud glances in his direction. 

“It's been six weeks. You said that's when I'd need another haircut.” 

You laughed a little as you pulled the robe around him. 

“You know, I say that every time, but most people ignore me. I love a man who can follow directions.” 

The eruption of red on his cheeks left you feeling suddenly tongue tied, and you carefully redirected the conversation back to the task at hand. 

“Same again, Doc?” You asked, readying your spray bottle and supplies. 

“Actually, could we, ah, go shorter this time?” Hesmiled sheepishly and watched as you ran your fingers through his tangled hair. 

“My boss, last time, said I looked like I joined a boyband, so…” 

“Your boss at the hospital?” You asked, clinging to every detail you could get from him. 

“The hospital?” 

“You said you were a Doctor, do you work in a lab instead or-”

“Oh. No, I work at the FBI. I'm not a medical doctor, I have a PhD. I have three, Chemistry, Engineering, and Mathematics.” 

You whistled. “Impressive. You can't be older than 30.” 

“I'm 29.” He said, smiling at you in the mirror, and you smiled back, hands still running through his hair. 

“So, no boy band haircuts, okay. For what it's worth, though, you look totally hot.” 

The words cut the conversation short, and you tried your best to take the words back as you went off to the sides to grab your sheers. 

Half an hour later, and you could swear that half the salon had given up pretending to be doing their jobs and were just awkwardly ogling the man. If the shorter “boyband” hair was good, the undercut you'd done for him was even better. 

You turned him around to get a closer look, using the excuse of making sure his hair was symmetrical enough to stare at him some more as you got closer to finishing. 

“Okay,” you said with a sad sigh. “You're all finished, Spencer. Let's get you rung up.” 

He nodded and followed you quickly, pulling out his wallet as he paid quietly. 

“Okay. And I'll see you tomorrow,” you said, as he picked up his bags to leave. 

“Tomorrow? I thought you said it was six weeks between haircuts.” 

“It is. But it's also my day off tomorrow, so I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner. With me.” 

He blinked at you once. Then twice, and another time before smiling and looking away. 

“Okay. See you tomorrow, Y/N.” 

He ran a hand through his hair and nearly walked into the door he was trying to walk through, but your heart still fluttered as you waved him out. 

[zvdvdlvr]

spencer reid has a soulmate :)

Head up, nose clean. You repeated the phrase as you stepped out of the elevator, excited for your new internship at the Behavioral Analysis Unit in Quantico.

You were 23, intellectually gifted, and quiet as all get-out. Because of how used to being alone you were, you assumed that the scientific community’s ‘groundbreaking proof’ of soulmates was completely absurd.

Almost everyone found their soulmate at 20-21, going and and clubbing or just going shopping. You knew that part of the reason you didn’t know your soulmate (or even knew if you had one) was because you didn’t look at people. You watched their movements and body language, you just didn’t look strangers in the eye.

That’s how you knew that there were a group of people watching you as you walked up the stairs to your employer’s office.

“Agent Hotchner?” You asked, knocking gently on the door.

The tall, dark-haired man stood up. “Sit, please.” You sat in the chair he gestured too after shaking his hand. “Yet again, I have to remind you that the things we see daily are not for weak stomached people. Our presence has been requested in Wisconsin, and we’re set to have a meeting in,” Hotch looked at his watch. “Twenty seconds. I understand that this is your first day, but from what I’ve seen from you, you are more than capable of fieldwork. Are you ready?”

You nodded. “Yes sir.”

“Good. You have your concealed carry license?”

You stood up and nodded. “When I was 21.”

“Good. Let’s get you introduced to the rest of the team.”

You remembered Rossi from when he personally requested to meet you one-on-one. He had wanted to have a… pleasant conversation with you. You understood why he wanted to check your morals.

Emily Prentiss smiled brightly at you even though she was clearly taken aback at your presence. Derek Morgan shook your hand and gave you a smile. Penelope Garcia was a ball of energy who pulled you into a tight hug, fussing over you like an older sister. She had a gorgeous smile. Jennifer Jareau was as polite as ever, shaking your hand and greeting you politely but something in her gaze you figured she might be happy to have a fresh face with new ideas.

“Where’s Reid?” Derek asked, looking around the table.

Jennifer shrugged. “Late. We’ll fill him in on the plane. Anyway…” the gorgeous immediately started to inform of you the kidnapping and killings of five men. They were all shot and killed in their homes with no signs of forced entry.

About two minutes in the discussion, the door swung open. You assumed the man was ‘Reid’. He shrugged of his bag and didn’t look up at until Jennifer kept going.

“Any sign of robbery? Anything missing?” Derek asked right after J.J. finished. You opened your own file, seeing the pictures closer. You couldn’t see the color of blood, but you could tell that the crime scene was clean. The only blood stemmed from the bullet to the head.

“No. The families of the victims said that nothing looked out of place or missing.”

Emily furrowed her eyebrows. “There was no other physical harm besides the cause of death? That’s bizarre.”

J.J. nodded.

“Could be a woman. Women are known for their aversion to ‘trophies’ or items they take from their victims. Maybe a prostitute… not many men would open their doors to women unless, for, you know,” you explained.

Silence fell over the room and you looked down. Clearly you had said something. “Sorry,” you mumbled.

“No, no, you’re right,” the late areival says, thumbing through his file. “There are no signs of rage or remorse and women are known for their emotional detachment or rage killings. All victims have a history of violence and sexual assult. This ccould very well be a woman trying to exact revenge. I’m surprised I didn’t think of it sooner,” Reid rambles, nodding as he pieces the puzzles together. “Sorry, what did you say your name wa…” he trails off, looking you in the eye.

Your mouth falls open as the world seems to erupt in the different black and grey hues of fire. Except this time you actually see the color. Your eyes are locked on Reid’s, disbelief painted all over your face.

“Y/n,” you whisper, eyes flickering to his rich brown hair, light pink lips, saucer-wide eyes, and heaving chest.

“Hello, soulmate. I’m Spencer. Spencer Reid.”

[irndad]

kiss me (under the milky twilight)- s.r.

a/n: this took so long and i'm so sorry! based on this post- reader has an ex that she keeps running back to, and spencer just wants her to see him. fake dating and hijinks ensue. VERY long. 4.6k words!! thanks to @fadingplaidtrashpatrol for ur thoughts and ideas!! masterlist // ask

The unraveling begins on a Friday. 

This is one of the rare Fridays where a full weekend is staring back at them, and Spencer is immeasurably pleased at his plans. He’s rented a Russian old movie, and his best friend had agreed to sit next to him on his shitty old couch while he whispers translations in real-time.

He loves spending time with her, a little hedonistically. She’s so kind, warm in both spirit and disposition, and Spencer treasures the time he gets to spend with her. Her desk adjoins his, and so one might assume that he could tire of her presence, but there’s something a little addicting about her, something he tries to have as often as he can. 

On this fine evening, she’s wearing an oversized sweater tucked into jeans- her position is mainly out of the field, and so she takes full advantage of the dress-code flexibility. Lovely earrings hang around her face, adorning her lovely features like a frame. 

Spencer’s more than a little in love with her. 

This has never really been a convenient fact, but Spencer’s used to wanting things he can’t have. And it was never really feasible not to want her- anyone who’s ever been in her presence would know this. It’s a foreign feeling, looking over at someone he’s lucky enough to know, and wanting them enough for that desire to turn into fantasy. 

“Spencer!” She greets him warmly, standing up to do so- if this wasn’t a workplace, if she was meeting him at the cafe like they do on Wednesdays, or his home, like she often finds herself in whenever he invites her, Spencer is certain she would wrap her arms around him in an incredibly warm hug. 

Because they are in the BAU, she believes it is inappropriate to embrace this way (which Spencer would argue isn’t true, given the way Morgan and Penelope are with each other, but if he told her that, it might be a little too obvious how desperate he is for her to touch him.)

The way she beams at him almost makes up for the fact that he doesn’t get to hug her. 

“I got you something,” he says in lieu of a response, clutching the bag of muffins in one hand. He’d woken up early to get her to stop by her favorite bakery, and it was worth it to see that look on her face. No one’s in the office now, the day long finished, and they’re getting ready to walk to his place. He lives so close by, and he’s grateful for this fact when they walk together back to his place. 

She grabs the bag, and he’s just so endeared by her, the giddy expression written over her lovely face.

“Have I mentioned that I love you? Because I do. You need to marry me, immediately.” She says to him, eyes closed in bliss, and even though she’s clearly joking, Spencer finds himself preening at her praise- wouldn’t it be incredible if she meant that? It sounds so pretty in her voice. I love you. 

He beams back at her, in a way he hopes doesn’t betray how much he wants. 

“I’m glad you like them,” he says back, his heart in his throat. 

“I have some news that you are going to be incredibly mad at me about.” She says, and a crumb is on her painted lip, and fantasy of kisses that he cannot have enters Spencer’s mind before he can shake it away.

“I could never be mad at you.”

“I think I have to raincheck tonight,” she says almost sadly, her voice apologetic, as though she has no choice in the matter.

“Is everything okay?”

He had picked up her favorite snacks yesterday night, tidied up his apartment top to bottom. 

“Josh texted me- he’s going through something and he needs me to come over-“

“He doesn’t need you to come over.” 

He rarely interrupts her, and he usually isn’t capable of being upset with her. He’s not really even upset with her now, but this is so exhausting, watching her deal with this asshole. 

It is a continuous surprise to Spencer that someone like her can be in a position like this.

Through Spencer’s eyes, the idea that anyone can not be in love with her is almost an impossibility. It’s not even his bias alone that makes him think this- it’s the truth of her. 

Josh is an asshole finance bro who works in the city center, and Spencer hates him more than most serial killers. 

He’s fucking careless with the thing Spencer wants the most in the world. Josh knows what it’s like to be with her, to be the person to falls asleep with her in his arms.  

Sometimes when Spencer can’t sleep, which is quite often, he pictures her soft cheek on her chest, pictures what she would feel like entwined with his own body, legs tangled with his and her fingers in his hair. It’s a sacred thing, this image- even though it isn’t real, Spencer knows he values the imagination of her presence more than Josh gives his attention to the real thing. 

They’ve “gotten together” and “broken up” and “started talking again” about 12 times respectively.

Spencer could kill him.

“Spence,” she sighs, shaking him out of his angry stupor, “please don’t be mad at me. He’s really going through something right now- he needs someone to be around. Besides,” she breathes out, “I can’t dump him. 

“Why is that?” He tries to temper his tone, but the memory of her mascara running down her cheeks as she sobs in his arms shoots through his mind, and manifests as a physical sharp pain in his chest. 

“That wedding is coming up,” she murmurs, looking down at her shoes. They’re scuffed, and Spencer thinks she might be embarrassed. Why should she be? He’s the asshole. “I told people I was going to have a date. Do you know how many people are going to be there, Spence? How many people are expecting me to bring my boyfriend?”

Her best friend is getting married. Spencer knows this because she’s told him, and told him gleefully when Josh had agreed to go with her. Spencer remembers thinking that he’d like to punch a wall.

Anyway. 

She’s the last of her friend group that’s not in a long term relationship, and in some twisted way, he kind of gets how Josh would be better than nothing, if you didn’t want to be seen as alone. 

“You don’t want to go alone.”

“Yeah, Spence.”

“I could go with you.”

It escapes his mouth without his permission, and he regrets it almost instantly. Because there’s no fucking way she’d go with him. He’s lanky and awkward and his blazers never fit and his ties are always tied wrong, and she’s beautiful and wonderful in ways he finds new ways to see everyday. He’s not a solution to her being worried about how she’s seen, he’d only make it worse-

“You would do that for me?” Her voice is small as she asks, and it shakes him out of his thoughts. He looks down at her, eyes softening at her lovely face. She looks touched, and he has to wonder, doesn’t she know?

He’d do anything for her. 

“Of course,” he breathes out, a nervous hand playing with the strap of his bag, “If it gets you to stop giving that asshole the time of day, I’d do it a million times.”

Her face shifts in a way he can’t read, and she swallows. 

“I can’t let you do that.”

“I want to,” he says, “Please. It would be fun, C’mon. You’re always saying I need to get out there and do things.”

“Being my fake boyfriend at my friend’s wedding is not getting out there and doing things,” she pouts, and his heart nearly jumps. It’s pathetic, but hearing her refer to him as her any kind of boyfriend is intoxicating. He wants to hear it, over and over. 

“It’ll be fun,” he says, touching her hand as it rests on the table, making intentional eye contact. She has been prettiest eyes. “C’mon, let me do this for you. I’m sick of this guy.”

She gulps again, an endearingly confusing gesture, and he finds the feeling a little desperate. Pick me, choose to be with me, even if it’s just pretend. 

“He’s going to be there anyway,” she breathes out biting her lip in a nervous gesture, “I- I’d owe you so much, Spence. It would make him jealous, I think.”

It’s a little hedonistic, how much he would enjoy that, he thinks. Someone would see her as his girl. He knows she might be doing this to get Josh’s attention, but still- the evening together seems like too lovely of a thing to turn down- too wonderful of a chance to not offer. He’d take a night of pretend over never getting to be with her at all. 

It’s enough to make him ignore that making Josh jealous is probably the reason she’s saying yes. 

“Okay, okay! Spencer, will you do me the honor of taking me to Julie’s wedding?”

“I would be honored. 

The weeks approaching the wedding are a bit of sweet torture. She’d had the idea that they could practice, whatever that meant, and the memory of it lives in his mind rent free. They’d been watching the movie, already touchier than most would allow of best friends. (She’s his best, Spencer’s just the tiniest bit resentful of Julie). 

She’d been sitting next to him on his worn out couch, her legs thrown across his, and true to his word, he was whispering the translation along to the movie. She smiled at him, watching his mouth move instead of the movie, and he felt tingly under her stare. How wonderful and bright it is, to be under her gaze. He kept speaking even though she wasn’t watching, because he imagines that if he stops, she might look away. 

Then, she had held his hand. 

Grabbed it really, fingers lacing with his own, and Spencer’s brain had short circuited. She has soft hands, he had thought to himself, and it was about the only thing he could manage to think. 

“We should practice,” she had whispered, even though it was just the two of them in the lowlight of his home, “Y’know, so people believe us.”

He didn’t say that he’s pretty sure no one needed to be convinced he’s in love with her. 

“Sure,” he had nodded, and squeezed her hand, “I think that’s a great idea.”

So they’ve been practicing. 

This has been in equal measures wonderful and torturous. She walks with him to work on half the days, with her fingers twined with his own, and Spencer finds it intoxicating that any passerby would assume he belongs to her. 

More than he already does, anyway. 

Her affection is her own, just turned up to 11. She’s gorgeous- this is a fact that was not instrumental in his love of her, but ornamental- still, this is hard to ignore when she touches him as much as she does now. When she’s out with the team at the bar, she rests her hand on the small of his back- he preens every time at this. This is simple, her domesticity, her claiming his presence as her own- it’s more than nice, Spencer realizes. It’s wonderful, to be wanted by her. Even if it’s not real.

On this night, they’re celebrating. They caught the unsub before he’d been able to kill his first victim. This is a rarity in their field, and she’d given the interview that had gotten the confession. It’s the closest to field work she’d gotten, and they’re all celebrating their win. Her win. 

She looks like a figment of imagination, lovely in a way he literally cannot believe he didn’t conjure up in fantasy. Her favorite song is playing out of pure serendipity, and Spencer likes that word for her. She is serendipitous as a whole. 

“Do you want something to drink, honey?” The endearment feels warm and natural as it comes out of his mouth. His hand is resting on the small of her waist, and he knows he’s being egregious with the practice thing. But this is so nice, her leaning into him, one drink deep and touchier than she is tipsy, and he loves this. He loves that under this pretense, he gets to know what she feels like in his arms. 

He hands her the water before she gets to answer, and she happily sips it. 

“Are you proud of me, Spence?” Her voice is immeasurably fond and he drinks it in like a man starved. 

“Of course,” he smiles at her. I’m always proud of you, he thinks. “You did so well, love.”

He’s not used to endearments, but she showers him in them. Before their little pretending, too. Called him dove, honey, darling. Packed an emergency lunch in his go bag in case he forgot his. She’s such a good friend, and he wants to be her lover more with each breath. 

He tries to return them, now. 

“Good,” she says serenely, looking at him in a way that kills him, because he will never, ever kiss her. She can hold him, and look at him like that, and he will never get to be with her, “I think my cider is too sour,” she scrunches her nose, and his heart swoops. 

“I’ll get you something sweeter, baby.”

“Yeah you will!” He hears Morgan laugh, and he flushes bright red. No one seems surprised, by how touchy they’d been. Even Hotch- he’d expected a talk, but then got a stern nod of understanding in its stead. 

She sips the sweet drink he got her, a little cherry on the step, and he thinks he’d do anything to keep looking at her. 

Five weeks to the wedding. 

He can do this. 

“Could you do me a favor, Garcia? I come bearing gifts.” 

Spencer’s snuck into her office- there’s not much to do today, but she hadn’t wanted to take PTO for no reason, so here she is, in her feathered and pink glory. 

“Is that a hot chocolate? From Dominicks? Ooh, you play dirty, Dr. Reid.” Penelope almost squeals, and despite his nefarious purposes, he finds himself joyful- it’s alwaysgood to talk to her. 

After a joyful, eyes closed and serene sip, she asks, “Alright, my sweet furry friend, what can I do for you?”

“Could you check on a Josh Collins for me?”

“Isn’t that your girl’s ex?”

“No,” Heat rises to his cheeks, before he can help it. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Oh, and my favorite color is black.” Penelope scoffs back, but begins typing furiously anyway. 

He needs to know what is so fascinating about this guy. Because lately he can’t figure it out. He’s always fucking hated the guy, even though he’s never met him. He never had to- she’d shown up enough times at Spencer’s door crying, been broken up with and brought back enough to know that this guy is awful. Doesn’t even come close to deserving the woman that she is. 

“He’s a financial analyst at a Marketing firm, went to state school for his Bachelor’s, says here that he played football in college, but I don’t think they met until after,” she says, “Oh, he has a scuba license. And skydiving! Looks like he’s a bit of an adrenaline junkie.”

It’s an evil thought. Is that what she likes? He finds it hard to imagine, picturing the moments where she’s wrapped up in his arms on a movie night- that always seemed to be her preference. In, not out. 

“Is that him?”

There’s a picture of him on Penelope’s screen. Josh is chiseled and strong, smiling brightly in a polo on a jet ski- this is a photo posted on his social media, and Spencer has met a million of this guy. They bullied him in school. Spencer as genius and he’s a lot of things, but that will never be one of them. It’ll never, ever be him. 

Good to know, anyway. Better not to fantasize about what he knows he can’t have. 

On the day of the wedding, it’s actually a 6 hour drive. She’d offered to get them plane tickets, but he enjoyed his time with her. He was also desperate to extend the time until the wedding was over, and she’s probably the only person he wants to be trapped in a car with. 

They’re sharing a hotel room. She’s booked two beds, which he’s honestly grateful for- if they’d shared a bed, he might’ve combusted. 

Still, there is so much intimacy. She sings in the shower. He imagines a world where he’d know that in domesticity, where after a night spent in laughter and something like love, she showered in his home. But that’s not how he knows it. He knows it because he’s at her best friend’s wedding, pretending to be her boyfriend. 

When she comes out of her bedroom, she’s gorgeous. 

She’s got a green and purple dress on, a cinched waist and a sweetheart neck, a dash of plum lipstick on her lovely pout, and he’d like to kiss that smile very, very much. She’s a delicate kind of lovely, saturated in sweetness, and it’s sweet torture to have her this close.

“You look...” He struggles to find words, an uncommon occurrence in his life, “Like a vision.”

It’s sentimental and warmer than he wished he sounded, but god- she’s stunning. She looks like she’s made of old film, beautiful in that way that’s just a bit too good to be true. He adores her more with each breath.

“You think it’s okay?” She speaks to him with her doe eyes adorned with a concerned expression. He wants to kiss it away.

“You look lovely,” he says, a vast underselling.

The ceremony is a lovely affair, and Spencer learns that she cries at weddings. The bride and groom have lovely, saccharine vows, and Spencer tries not to picture a wedding that he will never get to have. 

It’s a little bit impossible with her at his side. 

She’s touchier now, even mores then when they were ‘practicing’. Her hands are warm laced with his own, her head leaning on his shoulder, and he feels lucky to have even a piece of getting to be with her. 

At the reception, she is tackled by her friends, and he performs dutifully as the caring boyfriend. It’s not hard.

It’s a lovely night. His arms glued to the small of her waist, and he’s been introduced as her “genius FBI agent boyfriend” many times tonight. He turns bright red every time. 

“This is my boyfriend, he’s the smartest ever,” she brags when she’s half a drink deep, and he cherishes the ability to draw circles on the small of her back in this moment- his words fail him in moments of praise, and touch is an avenue that he is rarely allowed to use.

“I don’t believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified-“

“Which is a thing that humble geniuses say.” 

So he’s having a great tine. 

Her lipstick is transfer-free, and his cheek is proof. She’s so affectionate his heart keeps doing somersaults. There’s a signature cocktail with some pun in the couples name.

“I’m fucking obsessed with these, Spence,” she says, a light airiness to her voice that he recognizes as her tipsy voice, “Can you get me another, my love?”

“Yes, honey.” He smiles at her, and kisses the crown of her hair before leaving her in the company of her friends. He’s indulging a bit too much, he’s aware. He’s going to have to give up this up when the sun rises, like some fucked up fairytale where Cinderella never gets the guy because she’s not worthy of it without the pretense.

“Could I get the house cocktail?” Spencer asks the bartender, flashing a smile at her with the giddiness of knowing he will return to her.

Spencer had nearly forgotten that part of the reason he was here was because of Josh. 

Who is at the bar.

“Hey man- you’re the dude she brought, right?” 

Josh is actually about 2 inches shorter than Spencer, and Spencer makes the most of this difference. He’s a broad chested muscle man, but he looks woefully underwhelming. 

“Yeah, I’m the lucky guy.” Spencer replies in a deadpan tone, turning to face him with a stony expression. 

“Careful, man,” Josh says, and it’s a little pathetic how he’s trying to pretend he doesn’t care, “She’ll chew you up and spit you out.”

“Really? Because it seems like you’d leave a bad taste in anyone’s mouth.”

“Whatever, dude. It’s clear that she just brought someone to make me jealous.”

“Actually, while I can’t read her mind, I imagine you’ve slipped hers entirely. Clearly your entire energy is based in whatever ego-driven shell your youth has shaped you into- and maybe one day someone will care enough about whatever tragedy made you the way you are, but I am deeply uninterested, and I’d wager she is too.”

He’s not sure if this is true, but Spencer’s noticed that in the time since their ruse has begun she hasn’t mentioned Josh. Not once. She might not love Spencer,  but she might not see Josh anymore. 

“Also, if you ever speak disrespectfully of my girlfriend again I promise you it will not end well for you.”

His voice is even and has an underlaying of quiet rage. It’s wonderful to call her that, even more so as she enters into his eye line.

“You looked mad,” she says in lieu of a greeting, her nimble arms wrapping around his waist with fluid ease, “Is everything okay?” 

It’s only then she sees Josh, and there’s something wonderful about knowing that she came here to check on him. Josh is about to say something, he can tell even though he’s only visible in the corner of his vision. 

It’s a calculated risk but he chooses to do it anyway. 

When he kisses her, he doesn’t know what to expect. It falls into line like puzzles into place, one of her hands falling to his waist and the other cradling his jaw with a delicate softness. She leans into him totally and this is an intoxicating feeling- her lips are so, so soft and it’s what he’s been fantasizing about since she first smiled at him and asked him to keep going when he was rambling about Russian literature. 

It’s actually better. 

When she pulls back, she scans the space. Josh is gone.

“Well that had the intended effect,” he says- it seems better than anything else, like confessing that the only reason he did it was that he could. He kissed her. 

She nods, clearly a bit frazzled, and fuck-

“I should have asked, fuck, I’m sorry-“

“No, no, you’re okay, um-thanks for getting rid of him.”

Her voice is hollow. 

Despite the awkwardness of the kiss, which Spencer cannot stop thinking about.

Did he imagine it, or did she lean in? Did she sigh into it? How is he going to ever get over the fact that he’s never going to do that again?

Her lipstick is grape flavored. Now they both know that. 

They get back to the hotel at half past midnight, and she’d been a little distanced- not so much they still didn’t look like a couple, but enough that Spencer knows. They’re winding down the artificial love affair, and all of the things he’s become kind of addicted to are going to go away. Her fingers running through the tendrils of his hair, her delicate fingers rubbing tiger balm on his temples when he’s got his migraines. Her cheek kisses, the honeys, my loves, sweethearts. 

Kissing her. 

When she drops her bag on the hotel bed and sits on the edge of it, he sits next to her. She’s been quieter, since the kiss. 

“Hey.”

“Hey back,” she replies, bumping her knee with his in fondness. 

“I’m sorry I surprised you with, you know.”

“Kissing me?”

“I should have asked- I’m sorry.”

“I’m not upset that you kissed me,” she says, looking down at her shoes, “I’m upset that you only did it because you wanted to spite Josh.”

“What?”

“I know that this is my problem, Spence,” she says, “You never… led me on, you know? I know that this was always my thing to deal with. Being in love with you was never something that I thought would be a problem. But when you offered to go with me- to pretend to be my boyfriend, how could I pass that up?”

This makes no sense.

“I know,” she runs her fingers through her hair in a frustrated motion, “I know that it was never a good idea. But the idea of getting to be with you was just too much to turn down, even it it wasn’t the real thing. And now we’re going back to normal and I promise that I will go back to being your friend. It might take me a second, though-I might need some space.”

She needs space from him? Because she can’t transition away from being his fake girlfriend?

“You don’t need space from me.”

He’s so fucking bad at talking. 

“Spencer-“

“No, no,” because now he has a shot- now  there’s a reality where the pit in his chest doesn’t have to live there forever. He can be with her. Because for some crazy, insane reason, she wants him. “You don’t need space from because I don’t want space from you, okay?”

He sits next to her on the bed, eyes a little crazed with want with nowhere to go. 

“I’m not sure what you mean.” Her voice is tempered, and he thinks he hears hope. 

“I love you. I am in love with you. I’ve been in love with you as long as I’ve known you,” he grabs her hand-it feels desperate to say and he sure he sounds it, “I didn’t kiss you because I wanted to spite him. I did it because I couldn’t live with the idea that I would spend the rest of my life never have kissed you.”

He probably would say more- so many things are coming to mind, most of which are pleading. She’s the only thing he’s ever wanted this much. Before he gets to, though, she kisses him. 

It’s sudden, as all things of this nature are, but he pulls her close on instinct. She ends up on his lap, her hands around his neck, and it is so rare that fantasy lives up to reality. But this is better, the feeling of the weight of her pressed against him and the taste of her grape lipstick. 

It’s a minute when she pulls back, and it takes everything to not chase the contact.

“I love you too,” she says, the sweetness of it dripping from the sound of it. He wants to hear it again, and again, and again.

“For real?”

“For real.” 

When the run rises in the morning that follows, he’s wrapped around the length of her like a vice, right and close to him, Her head rests on his chest, and while there is another bed there, it’s clearly not seeing any use.

He’s never slept better in his life. 

[ourautumn86]

two geniuses (don’t get along)

enemies to lovers;; spencer reid x fem reader!

note; in this fic lila’s episode happens after elle’s departure to make the story have more sense. (S1 E18). also there have been some changes :))

synopsis; spencer reid; doctor spencer reid. some of them (mostly of them), would say he’s a genius. but if he was, then so you were. maybe that’s why you hate each other. maybe that’s why you can’t stand him.

cw;; +18 content! minors dni!, reader and spencer’s competitive asses, talk of murder, graphic scenes, weapons, guns, blood, shots being fired, lila flirting, spencer kissing lila, lots of fighting, lots of tension, teasing, apologies, reader getting hurt (mentions of stitches), threats, murder of secondary characters, talk about kinks and trauma (spencer being a smartaas), mention of spencer’s childhood and her mom… ( i bet there’s so much more but i can’t remember rn) angst, fluff and smut in upcoming chapters!!!

“another coffee, pretty boy? you wanna die?” morgan inquired the puppy eyed profiler, whose right hand held a cup of freshly brewed coffee.

“actually, the caffeine in coffee has been found in animal and cell studies to protect cells in the brain that produce dopamine. in a large prospective cohort of more than 500,000 people followed for 10 years, an association was found between drinking higher amounts of coffee and lower rates of death from all causes.” he easily spat in less than a mere minute, making morgan scoff.

“it’s not considered coffee if a 99% of it is sugar, reid.” you barged into their conversation, taking a look at the files of new cases.

“sugar is one type of carbohydrate, as are fiber and starch. carbohydrates are essential macronutrients.” he defended himself, taking a sip of his coffee-sugar.

“wrong. although carbohydrates are essential macronutrients since the body uses them in large amounts, something wrong about your thesis is that sugar is not one of those macronutrients. the body doesn’t use it. in fact, the effects of added sugar intake which are higher blood pressure, inflammation, weight gain, diabetes, and fatty liver disease, are all linked to an increased risk for heart attack and stroke. so yeah. technically, morgan was right. you might die.” you nodded towards the man, who smiled at you, walking towards you and taking your face in between his hands.

“have i told you how much i love that brain of yours?” he inquired, leaving a kiss to your forehead. “brilliant.” he smiled, raising his hands in victory since for once he had won spencer and his extensive knowledge. the profiler simply rolled his eyes.

“thanks.” spencer spat at you, to what you smiled.

“you’re very welcome, agent.”

“it’s doctor.”

“yeah, yeah. whatever.”

spencer reid. with an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and the ability to read 20,000 words per minute, he was considered a real walking genius. maybe that’s why the two of you seemed to despise each other so much. people say geniuses actually like each other. well, you and spencer were the exception. it was easy to get on his nerves. he was not used to having someone smart enough to actually suppose a threat to his intelligence. yet there you were. you had been jumping your way up to college since you were twelve, and at the ripe age of 22, and numerous phds later, you had found yourself working at the BAU.

you had been hired after elle had left the team, and everyone had seemed happy greeting you. you had specially made quick friends of penelope and morgan. something reid didn’t seem to like. well… he didn’t exceptionally like you. something that seemed stupid ‘cause you two were the perfect pair. there was nothing the two of you didn’t know, nothing you wouldn’t catch or realize. maybe that’s why spencer despised you. ‘cause now they had you too, not only him.

it was actually a pity. you liked smart people. you liked to share opinions and learn new things you might not know with the help of others. but spencer was borderline narcissistic, and that made your body cringe in disgust. and worst of all, he was really attractive. curly caramel hair, hazel puppy eyes, full lips, small straight nose, tall stature, pretty hands… also his voice…

well, anyways. you were losing focus.

so you’d decided to match his energy. and that only seemed to make the situation worse. sure, you two worked together, but only because you had to, if you could you’d much prefer to do everything alone rather than have to share office with reid.

hotch caught your attention as he pushed a file on your table.

“and what’s this…?” you sung as you took it, inspecting it.

“training program in los angeles.” you looked at him. he was leaning against your table. “want you to go with gideon and reid.” you let out a single chuckle, tossing the paper on your table.

“no.” you simply said, watching the man sigh. “tell jj to go! or prentiss!” you offered.

“can’t. jj is helping penelope to trace an unsub and prentiss is new, need someone who has been on the ropes longer.”

“then what about morgan? he’s not doing anything.” you pointed at the man who played with a mini football.

hotch looked at you. “please? you are the only one who gets reid. you know how he can be…”

“a narcissistic, egocentric, babbling, childlike, fourteen looking mess? yeah, i know.” you smiled. “but what do i win in this situation? i mean i must gain something if i’m gonna spend more time than necessary with him.”

“a free weekend.”

“done.” you gave him your hand. “a pleasure doing business with you, sir.”

-

“spencer! spencer reid!” you hear someone call for your work-mate, a tall smiling man approaching him and shaking his hand just as the three of you entered an art exhibition. “look at you. you look just the same.” he chuckled as he gives him a quick hug. “nothing changed… spencer was the only 12-year-old in our graduating class. just the same.”

“thanks.” spencer awkwardly says, giving the man a tight smile. “these are special agents jason gideon and (y/n) (l/n). this is parker dunley. we went to high school together as you can probably gather.” he introduces all of you.

“hey. it’s a beautiful gallery.” jason gives him his hand in a shake.

“oh, thank you, thank you. parker smiles, later on turning towards you.

“contemporary art… right?” you inquire offering him your hand, to what he nods. “contemporary modern art includes a wide range of mediums and genres. it is often characterized by its use of new media, such as video and installation art, as well as its rejection of traditional art forms. contemporary modern artists often experiment with form and content, and their work can be highly conceptual.” you say, making the man chuckle.

“i see you brought your computers.” parker jokes with gideon about spencer and you. “another genius like spencer?”

“oh no, men are just smart. woman are the geniuses.” you smile, making him chuckle.

“and funny, huh? i see, i see.”

spencer coughs to grab the man’s attention. “jason’s a big contemporary art enthusiast.”

“well, we’re exhibiting four up-and-coming artists in this show. everything is for sale. and i could definitely swing a nice discount for a friend of…” he loses focus as a blonde beautiful woman enters the exhibition. “lila! hey. guys, come on.” he invites you three towards his friend, coming up to her to say hello.

“do i look 12-years-old to you?” spencer inquired gideon, to what you scoffed, thanking the waiter that offered and served you a glass of champagne.

“oh, totally.” you said as you took it, taking a sip as you heard spencer crack a fake laugh.

“real funny.”

you three made your way towards parker and… lila. she was a beautiful blue eyes-blonde young girl. the basic american beauty standard.

“spencer. you ever met a real movie star?” the man asks, to what the girl beside the blonde scoffs.

“movie star? please. she has a supporting role on a television series about beach volleyball. totally blue-collar.” your eyebrows slightly rise.

“what a friend…” you whisper to your glass, taking another sip of the champagne.

“i’m lila.” the girl gives a sweet smile to spencer, and you almost roll your eyes.

it’s only a matter of time.

“hi, im doctor spencer reid… i’m spencer. you don’t have to call me doctor.” he corrects himself.

lila chuckles. in 3… 2… 1… and tucks her hair behind her ear. there we go.

“cool.” you say, turning around without even introducing yourself, it’s not as if she’d pay attention to you. she’s too focused on spencer to care as you make your way through the gallery, taking the artwork in, trying to scape the probable flirting that was about to go down.

later on you found the two of them chatting in front of a picture in which the blue and green dominate.

“does it make you feel anything?” the blonde asked him, and you silently expect an answer from spencer.

“like what?” he asks. god he sucks.

“i can’t tell you how to feel.” lila chuckles at his frown.

“right now i feel pretty good.” he smiled and you roll your eyes.

“lila? can i talk to you for a moment?” parker interrupts their chatting and the girl nods, quickly glancing at spencer.

“excuse me.”

“sure!” he gently says, and you make your way towards him.

“feeling pretty good, huh?” you inquire him, teasingly, and he groans. “you totally suck.” you take a sip of your glass and he looks at you. “poor girl seems desperate.”

“desperate for what?” he inquires, frowning.

“oh come on, reid. and you call yourself a profiler? it’s obvious she likes you. she was trying to flirt with you.” you obviously state. “she was trying so hard and you were not catching on…” you laugh, and he sighs.

“you know ogling on other’s business is rude, right?” he questions you.

“we’re the fbi. we’re on everybody’s business. that’s our job, reid.” you ignore him, taking a look at the photograph lila and him were staring at. “calming, isn’t it?” you say and he looks at the photograph as well, taking it in.

“sometimes, the color blue is associated with loneliness and sadness. it usually happens when you combine it with specific elements, like rain.” he spits and you chuckle.

“i know that, genius. the thing is not how it’s supposed to make you feel, it’s how it really makes you feel.” he looks at you as you sip from your cup. “with lila, you might feel good, ‘cause you enjoy her company, with me on the other side, you might not even want to be here, staring at a photograph that you’ve probably seen before. that’s because you focus on everything too much. you need to see what the picture actually tells you, not focus on the person you’re staring at it with.”

spencer’s hazel eyes go back to the picture, trying to focus on it, not on your presence, or the amount of voices that surrounded him.

the exhibited photograph shows an empty gas station, lights of green engulfing it as the nightlight blue sky surrounds it. it takes spencer back to his childhood. to those days in which even if he loved his mother, he couldn’t spend another minute by her side and left his house late in the afternoon for a walk. it helped him get out of his head. he remembers watching the sun go down as the night took over the sky, studying and calling out the constellations above his head, trying to find a solution to his mother’s illness. the stars never worked, and he was always left…

“it makes me feel alone.”

-

“you know, we really can get ourselves to the airport.” gideon said, reid and you trailing behind him as the police officer guided you to his car.

“i didn’t invite the fbi here to let them make their own way around town.” he says, never minding gideon.

“we really appreciate it.” reid says and you whistle.

“so you have manners, huh?” to what he groans.

“oh, shut up.”

“hey, i can’t thank you guys enough for conducting the seminar.” kim smiles.

“well, don’t hesitate to call if there’s anything we can help with.” gideon offered, putting his bags on the trunk of the car.

you stretched your arms after having pushed in your own. “can’t wait for that free weekend.” you muster happily, to what spencer frowns.

“free weekend? what are you talking about?”

“a special thanks from hotch for coming all the way here and putting up with you.” his mouth falls open at your words.

“i didn’t get any free time and i had to put up with you!”

“that let’s you know who’s the problem in this equation.” you falsely smiled at him, patting her shoulder, and you relished on the way his jaw tightened.

your conversation ends as the three of you watch officer kim end a phone call with a not very enthusiastic ‘great’.

“everything alright?” jason asks.

“double murder at hollywood bungalow.” he informs. “a celebrity. a young movie star, natalie ryan, and her fiancé shot to death.”

“very romantic.” you mutter.

“it’s gonna be a major pain in the ass. hey, you guys care to take a quick look before i drive you to the airport? it’s on the way.” he asks, and gideon accepts the offer.

“absolutely.”

you sigh as you get on the back of the car along with spencer.

“seems like that weekend is gonna have to wait.” he happily and teasingly smiles and you send daggers in his direction.

“i’ll choke you with my bare hands.”

“did you get that kink by exposure or trauma?” your mouth falls and your eyes widen.

“what?” you almost yell, watching him ponder.

“maybe it’s because you like to have power and control. have you talked about this with a therapist?”

“you’re gonna have to see a therapist after the torture i’m gonna put you through if you don’t stop that fucking nonsense.” you warn him, and he raises his hands.

“i’m just saying, there’s nothing bad about seeking mental help-”

“spencer!”

-

“no sign of forced entry.” reid points out as the four of you enter the murder scene.

“same weapon.” gideon informs watching at the two bodies.

you stare at the female, getting closer. “the girl was shot execution style, once in the head. the male three times in the torso.”

“so you have two different MOs.” jason wonders before going back to officer kim, talking about the case. you crouch down to take a better look at the man’s corpse.

“what? you found anything?” spencer inquired from behind you, to what you shook your head.

“nah. just fantasizing.” he frowns.

“fantasizing. what the- what would you possibly be fantasizing about in a murder scene?”

“oh you know… you… in that position… you know? it’s really sexy, you should try it. here don’t move let me get my gun.” you offer while getting up, and he just rolls his eyes, leaving you behind.

“what do you think?” gideon asks the officer about the case, wanting his insight.

“i’ve had a couple other cases recently, past few months. same type of weapon, 22 caliber handgun, both shot in the head.” you look at the bodies. “the first was an established film producer, wally melman, and the second was chloe harris, another young actress. though not as well-known as natalie here.”

“any forensic evidence?” reid asks as you step away from them, taking in your surroundings.

“no, and the guys have been going through this place all morning and haven’t come up with anything.”

“so he clearly knows how to cover his tracks.”

“or hers.” you mutter to yourself.

“twenty-two’s are small but efficient. they bounce around inside a person like a pinball.” jason said.

“preferred weapon of the mafia.” spencer added. “you know, there’s no obvious sexual component to these crimes, which is usually the case with serial murders.”

“so you’re thinking this is a serial killer?” kim asks.

“well, it’s certainly a series of murders. we don’t know enough yet to call them serial.” you step into the conversation.

“would you consider hanging out in LA a little while? let me lean on your expertise until we do figure out what we’ve got?” the officer inquires and gideon nods.

“yeah, just cancel the flights. we’ll have the rest of pit team out here ASAP.”

-

the unsub seemed to follow his victims, since he knew their schedules. there was not a single witness, he knows how to blend in and hide in plain sight. he’s meticulous.

and everybody is watching.

just like everybody was watching spencer and lila.

after finding out that the unsub was actually stalking the blonde, and killing people to help her with her career, she had somehow scurried her way under spencer’s protection. it actually bothered you. ‘cause spencer seemed so distracted. and it was totally unprofessional to get involved with a target being their agent.

you were on her studio, studying everyone surrounding her. but it was one person that caught your attention.

“who’s that?” you question prentiss.

“that’s maggie, maggie lowe. for what i know she just works here.” she answers you. “why?”

“they seem pretty close, don’t you think?” you ponder, watching her physical language. “she also seems nervous, she avoids lila’s eyes.”

“maybe she’s just shy.” she shrugs, but knows what you’re pointing out.

“maybe…” then, jj appears.

“what are you guys talking about?”

“lila and possible unsubs.” emily fills her in, accepting the coffee she offers her, you take the one she handles you too with a thanks.

“talking about lila… look who’s approaching her.” she devilishly smiles. you almost groan at the sight of spencer talking to the blonde. “they seem to have hit it off.”

“ugh don’t start. he’s so focused on her when in reality he should be focused on his job…” you sip at your coffee, not realizing the shared look the other two girls send each other. “so unprofessional.” you shake your head.

“are you really mad because he’s distracted from his job or by the fact that a pretty girl is distracting him?” jj asked you, taking in your frown and confused expression.

“what?”

“oh come on, really? do you really not feel it?” emily pushes in too, and you look at them.

“feel what? i-i don’t understand.”

“there’s this weird tension in between the two of you.” the brunette explains, being backed up by the blonde.

“it’s like when two little kids like each other and they don’t know how to show it so they just mess with each other.” you scoff.

“you’re saying that spencer and i are attracted to each other?” you inquired them both and they looked at the other. “come on guys, have you seen him? have you actually worked with him? he’s a fucking narcissist, he makes my life impossible just because i’m as smart as him. i don’t like him. at all. i can’t even stand him!” you rant. “he does this thing when he’s focused, playing with his hands and pencils, it’s so distracting. and when i state a fact, he just has to find something to actually make it wrong. every single time. and let’s not talk about how fucking childish he is, if you guys had been here for the training program, i swear to god he said this stupid things about kinks and me having trauma, oh my god i wanted to fucking kill him. he diminishes me, and thinks he’s better than me. and it just makes me sick…” you take a deep breath when you notice how much you had actually talked and your friends’ looks. “what i mean to say is, no. i don’t like spencer reid. and if he wants to fuck his job up, i’d be more than happy.”

morgan suddenly appeared, hotch right behind him.

“guys. there’s something you have to know…” the first talked.

“michael ryer’s dead.” the second finished.

“oh shit.” emily cursed.

“does lila know?” jj asked.

they shook their head.

“she’s gonna be devastated.” jj said to what you sipped at your coffee.

“well at least she has spencer, right?”

“oh, yeah. can we talk about that real quick?!” morgan inquired, astonished.

“no, morgan!” the girls stop him and he raised his hands.

“okay… but the kid has game.”

-

“woah. i like your house.” spencer said as you two entered lila’s house.

how had you managed to end up with the two of them alone, you didn’t know, and you didn’t like.

“i rent it.” the girl smiled.

“nice.” he nodded.

“lila, you should probably change all your phone numbers.” you said, messaging your team, they’d found something concerning nude photos of the young artist.

“i’m unlisted.”

“anytime you call an 800 or an 888 number your phone number’s put into a data bank that’s then sold to telemarketers. if someone gets your phone number they can go online and research all your records.” you actually responded.

“woah, are you a genius like spencer too?” spencer.

“no. i’m actually smarter.” you gave her a small smile, making her chuckle.

“uh… you should probably carry a piece of paper and pen with you wherever you go in case you see any suspicious license plates that often reappear.” spencer tries to change the conversation as you two followed the blonde towards her kitchen. “and a security dog too.”

“allergic.” she simply answered. “do you guys want some tea?”

you shrugged. “yeah, sure. thanks.” spencer nodded as well. it was already getting late, the sun leaving the city’s sky.

“i’m gonna go change while the water boils, make yourselves comfortable.” she said while making her way upstairs.

you went back towards the salon, your eyes wandering towards a collage on lila’s wall. spencer got your left side, his white stripped button up shirt’s sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“feel anything yet?” you asked him.

“there is something definitely appealing about this one.” he said and you nodded.

“like lila?”

he looked at you, his mouth falling open to say something, but just as the words were to fall from his lips, the blonde returned in a a more comfortable outfit, making her way towards the patio of her house, beside the pool.

“what are you doing?” spencer inquired her.

“i just need some air. the tea is on the kitchen.” she responded.

“what? no, lila…” your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you watched him go after her.

you could hear them talk and spencer beg her to come inside since there was a psychotic killer aiming at her. you made your way back to the kitchen just as fast as you saw the blonde lean into him, one of her hands tugging at his tie to pull him down. great.

your hands took the cup of steaming tea that lila had prepared you, your eyes on spencer’s as you took a sip. but the warm liquid was poured all over the floor of the kitchen, your head spinning at the blunt trauma that stroke you. your hands went to the side of your forehead as you fell, taking in the sight of your blood. you groaned as someone took you from your hair, pulling you and dragging you across the floor, your hands getting cuts from the smashed cup of tea.

“come here.” the unsub said, taking away your gun, and… you knew that voice. your eyes met the blonde’s.

“maggie lowe?” you muttered to yourself. so you were right. she was the killer and stalker.

you got dragged all the way to the salon, where you could see lila and spencer kissing from the distance. but the kiss quickly broke when maggie fired a shot up into the ceiling, capturing their attentions. spencer quickly pulled out his weapon, pointing at maggie, whose gun’s barbell was right against your head.

“maggie?” lila inquired as they slowly made their way towards you two.

“why’d you have to bring these people here?” she asked lila. “put down the gun.” she ordered spencer, clocking the weapon that kissed your skin. he quickly lowered it, calling out for the killer. “don’t call me maggie! you don’t know me!” “come on lila, let’s go. we gotta go baby, let’s go.” she ordered the actress in a soft yet hurt voice.

“maggie don’t hurt her, you don’t need to hurt her.” you didn’t know if he was talking about lila or you. or maybe both.

“you don’t know anything. i would never do anything to hurt lila. i created her.”

“no, you didn’t.” lila said.

“yes, i did!” you closed your eyes when the barbell dug harsher against your temple. “i did everything for you! and you betray me by bringing these people here… to our house!!!”

“so ungrateful…” you say, loud enough for maggie to hear you. “look at you… you gave her everything and you saw what she did to you… she kissed him. she told him she loved him.” you lied, looking at spencer. he caught on.

“what?” maggie incredulously said.

“i heard them. i saw them kissing each other like animals!” you yelled. “he abandoned me… and now i’m here. about to be killed because of him!” you spat, meeting maggie’s eyes. “you don’t have to hurt me. they don’t deserve us. i’m on your side maggie… i know how you feel. i know how it feels to be betrayed like this…” you nodded, seeing her eyes change. “give me my gun… i’ll kill him for you. and then you can have lila back. i’ll let the two of you go.” you promised, slowly rising up to your feet, extending your hand.

and just as she pointed her gun down, you tackled her, taking the weapons from her and throwing them aside as she fought against your hold.

“reid!” you called out for your work mate, who quickly came to you and handcuffed maggie, who just started crying and begging for you to kill her.

“i gave her everything…”

you looked at spencer, wiping off the blood from your eyes.

“and that’s why we need to stay professional.”

-

“are you okay, pretty girl?” morgan came to you as the paramedics wiped clean your wound.

“yeah, they say i have a light concussion. a couple of stitches and i’ll be alright.” you gave him a small smile.

“what happened in there, huh? we only got what the paparazzi had on camera, which is…” you nodded.

“yeah. well, maggie got into the house with lila’s spare keys, and basically almost killed me. it was good luck that spencer kissed lila, or else i don’t know what i would’ve done.” the rest of the team had gathered around you.

“you did good. spencer told me how you got into her head.” gideon said.

“thanks.” you responded.

“make sure you’re on the clear before getting up. we’ll be right back, gotta fill in the other officers.” hotch informed you, to what you nodded.

they all left except spencer, who silently looked at you.

“i’m sorry.” spencer said, looking at his feet. “this shouldn’t have happened, if i hadn’t…”

“… played barbie?” you finished off for him, catching his attention. “look spencer. i don’t really care about it. it’s your life and you make your own decisions, just… make sure to not put any of us in danger while doing it. even lila. one of us three could have died tonight.” he nodded. you reached on your back pockets, pulling out the films of the paparazzi’s camera. “i guess this is yours.” he called out for you once again, probably to apologize one more time, but you were still pretty shaken up and you were still pretty mad at him. “would you mind? my head is killing me.” you asked of him and he nodded, silently turning around and walking its way towards morgan and emily. your mind went back to her words the moment the needle punctured your skin. oh ‘come on, really? do you really not feel it?’ ‘there’s this weird tension in between the two of you.’. and then back to jj’s. ‘it’s like when two little kids like each other and they don’t know how to show it so they just mess with each other’. you couldn’t help but chuckle.

you liking spencer? no way.

if there was anything you felt for spencer reid that was hate.

-

a/n; im so excited for this series!!!! so much angst and fluff and smut yet to come!🤭

[aperrywilliams]

I'm Sorry I Couldn't be Here for You Sooner (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

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Author Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader.

Summary: You have one of the worst days in a long time at work. When Spencer returns from an assignment to the BAU and sees your current state, he must do something.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Frustration/Hurt/Comfort. Just a self-indulgent rant. A lot of cuss words. Spencer is the best boyfriend in the world.

A/N: I just need Spencer to hold me now.

-----

The clock ticks and ticks, but the time seems to stand still. Even if you don't know how long you have been looking at that piece of wood, plastic, and metal, it feels like an eternity.

In the distance, a voice keeps throwing out words and sentences to which you should pay attention. However, even if you tried, looking at the clock on the wall is still more interesting than hearing Hotch talking about new protocols for field agents.

Still lost in your head, you don't notice the meeting is over and people are starting to leave the room. Only when someone squeezes your forearm. It's JJ.

"Are you okay?" she asks, eyebrows furrowed. You look at her and blink a few times.

"Uh- yeah," you mumble. 

Are you okay? No, you're not. But why bother others with that?

On second thought, this may be a chance to spill what's on your mind. JJ is usually a forthcoming and wise person. 

"Well, actually-" you begin, but before saying anything else, JJ cuts you off.

"That's nice. Because I want to ask you if you can babysit Henry tomorrow night. Will invited me to a romantic dinner, and our babysitter is sick. Hope it doesn't make much trouble to you?" the blonde probes.

Okay, you didn't expect that.

Not in the mood to turn the subject back to you, you say yes, and after thanking you, JJ quickly leaves the conference room. Alone with your thoughts for a few seconds, you wonder if the tightness in your chest isn't an exaggeration. You decide to forget about it and go back to your desk.

Opening a folder with the information on the last case, you are ready to write your report. But not too so far on it, Emily approaches you.

"Hey, how are you?"

You have doubts about how to answer the question. A few minutes ago, when JJ asked, you lied to her, and she didn't even notice. Maybe it's good to be honest.

"Actually, not so good," you sigh. And Emily raises an eyebrow. 

"Yeah? What happened?"

"I just don't know, I don't feel good," you try to explain. But you're not sure how to do it either.

"I'm sure it's something you can manage," Emily muses. "Look, whatever it is, have a drink when you get home today, relax a little, and I bet you'll be as good as new tomorrow!"

You open and close your mouth several times, trying to get a word out, but nothing comes to mind. 

A drink and relax? Is that simple?

You let out a hum, and that's enough for a response to Emily.

After wishing you good luck, she heads down the hallway, presumably to Garcia's office.

It's clear that Emily didn't grasp your actual emotional state, but you don't blame her either.

The last case was hard for everyone, so there is no reason to take it personally.

Focusing on your report again, you expect the sour mood surrounding you to fade eventually.

To finish your paperwork, you need to make copies of the reports. So you get up and head to the copy machine. After carefully placing the papers in the tray, you press the start button. When you think it will start copying, the machine stops mid-scan. You frown, and after a few seconds of nothing, you press the 'start' button again. Nothing. You do it again. And again. It's not working, and you feel your blood running hot.

By pressing the button again and again, anger comes.

"What the fuck is wrong with you stupid fucking machine!"

It's not enough to swat with force the button panel; now you're kicking the machine out of pent-up frustration.

"Whoa, whoa, stop right there, pretty girl."

Morgan steps between you and the machine, putting distance with his palms. And that's when you realize your outburst. Panting and still with the heat of rage on your cheeks, you are not yet satisfied.

"What the fuck, Morgan. Now you're defending a fucking copy machine?!" You hiss. Derek narrows his eyes to assess your current state. He's seen you mad, but it usually goes away easily. You are not a dense person.

"Okay, what's wrong, pretty girl? Since when do you unleash your frustration with pretty boy on inanimate things?"

Pretty boy. Spencer. Your boyfriend. Today, your boyfriend is conducting a cognitive interview with a convict in a DC jail—Hotch's orders. You wish he were here.

Morgan knows you usually laugh at his jokes, and even when you are in a bad temper, they help to light the mood.

Not this time, though.

"Don't talk about Spencer or me like that!" You snarl. "He doesn't have to do with any of this!"

Morgan doesn't like you are talking to him. Folding his arms over his chest, he let out an unamused scoff.

"Come on, don't you think you're overreacting here? Was this whole outburst only for a joke? What, are you four years old?"

You want to keep yelling, but a lump forms in your throat that is making it difficult for you to speak or even breathe. Morgan doesn't even wait for you to say something.

"You know what?" Morgan continues. "If you cannot stand the pressure of this job right now, maybe you should go home."

With that said and shaking his head in disappointment, Dereks leaves you there.

Stumped. Frustrated. Broken.

All the anger from moments before turns into an almost uncontrollable urge to cry. What have you done to these people? They are supposed to be your friends, your family. They are supposed to understand you and support you when you need them. And now that it's the time, they've only ignored you, minimized your problems, and even questioned your worth. Maybe Derek is right, and you should go home.

Defeated, you're strolling to your desk when Hotch peaks out of his office and gestures you to come.

Great, just what you needed now.

When you walk into your boss's office, he is already sitting in his chair, sternly looking at you.

"I won't ask you what's wrong with you today because it's your private life. However, I must remind you we are all professionals on this team. If you need time off, you have the right to get it, but I will not tolerate disrespect, like when you are distracted as I give fundamental instructions. If you don't pay attention, it could affect your work in the field and even put the lives of innocent people at risk."

If you didn't feel trampled before, now you feel like a ton of dirt was dumped on you.

You know Hotch can be sharp with words, but his ultimate goal is always to look after the team. But why does it feel like you're not part of that team right now?

"Do I make myself clear?"

With no more energy left in your body, you just let out a 'yes, sir.' Without waiting for another response, he sends you back to your desk.

It's already noon when you resume your work. Your mind spins at a mile an hour, and although it's hard, you force yourself to concentrate enough to get your job done, so at least the salary they pay you is worth it. 

Like a mollusk in its shell, you close yourself in that bubble and stop paying attention to your surroundings. It's your safe place—only you. 

In the distance, you feel your coworkers come and go. Never do you look up. Time goes by, and your throat feels dry from not speaking for hours.

Before everyone starts planning lunch, you are already picking up your lunch bag.

Social interaction is out of the table, so you are secluded in the building roof where an improvisated garden has benches. You sit alone, and the breeze helps to steady your breathing. As you open your Tupperware, you tentatively plunge the fork into the almost-cold pasta.

Even so, you're better here than in the bullpen minutes ago.

-----

Spencer walks through the doors of the BAU. It's 2 in the afternoon, so hopefully, the team is still having lunch in the conference room. Slightly worried that he wouldn't be able to reach you when he wanted to let you know he was on his way, he assumed that you had a lot of work and that your phone was mute.

Arriving at the conference room, Spencer scans the place and immediately catches something odd. You are not there. JJ, Prentiss, Morgan, Rossi, and Hotch are, though.

With an eyebrow furrowed, he asks, "Where is she?"

His teammates perk their heads up.

"Hello to you, pretty boy," Morgan teases.

"How was the interview?" JJ asks.

"Did you eat? You still can sit with us," Prentiss offers.

"Did you get the interview done?" Hotch asks with a raised eyebrow.

Spencer gets an uneasy feeling about what's going on. He knows you weren't feeling so okay this morning, and even if he tried to convince you to take a sick day, you didn't let him.

"Neither of you responded my question," Spencer points, voice harsher than when he asked first.

"(Y/N)? I thought she went home," Morgan muses.

"Why would she do that?" Spencer questions, alarmed. "Something bad happened?"

"She said she was okay when I asked earlier," JJ explains. "Maybe she has an errand to do."

"She was way distracted when we were at the meeting in the morning. She didn't listen a thing of what I said," Hotch adds.

"And you sent her home?" Spencer directs his question to Hotch.

"No, I didn't. She didn't ask it either when I called her to my office."

"You called her to your office? Did you reprimand her?" Spencer asks in disbelief.

"Of course, I did it, Reid. She did something disrespectful to the team," Hotch defends.

"And considering her rage moment directed to the copy machine, maybe it's better if she went home," Morgan supplies.

"Why are you being so dramatic, Reid?" Emily questions, very confused about why Spencer is so upset.

Spencer huffs, frustration running in his veins.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now? Did you ever realize she wasn't doing okay and nobody took her seriously? Yeah, sure, she said she was okay, but did you really check on her? Did you really ask her what was wrong? Did someone listen to her?"

The people in the room go silent after Spencer scolds them. 

Did they help in any way?

"You are unbelievable, and you call yourself profilers," Spencer huffs, turning to exit the room in search of you.

"What are you doing, Reid?" Hotch asks. No turning around to face his boss, and halfway out, Spencer replies.

"The thing you should have done in the first place. And I don't care if it doesn't fall protocol, I can give you my resignation letter tomorrow."

-----

When Spencer reaches the building roof and sees you sitting on one of the benches, he lets out a sigh of relief. He suspected you might be there, considering your things were still on your desk.

You can't see it since your back is turned. Your eyes look at the horizon without focusing on anything in particular.

The breeze is nice despite the November weather in Virginia.

Not wanting to scare you, Spencer slowly approaches you as he clears his throat. You turn around and see him standing a couple of meters away from you, but close enough to see your eyes red from crying.

You know he noticed it, and you avert his gaze.

You don't like the idea of ​​looking vulnerable right now. The morning was already catastrophic enough to explain your current state of mind to Spencer.

Spencer is a man of many words. He is known for his diatribes on any topic at hand. So you expect some kind of rant or even some statistical data about what could be happening to you.

But contradicting his very nature, he just silently approaches, takes your hand to get you up from the bench, and pulls you into a tight, comforting embrace.

And for the first time all day, you feel like you can actually breathe, and your chest isn't tight anymore. Words are not necessary; just being held like that is enough for now.

Spencer kisses the top of your head lovingly.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be here for you sooner. I'm sorry you had such a horrible morning," your boyfriend laments.

You shake your head, still buried in his chest.

Tears fight to come out from the corners of your eyes, and you no longer want to hold them back.

"Let it out, baby. Just let them out."

And that's what you do. For the first time all day, you allow yourself to cry without holding back. Spencer has you the entire time, rubbing your back soothingly.

"I don't know why I feel so bad, Spencer. I don't understand," you muffle your words into his embrace.

"It's okay, love. You don't have to explain to me, or anyone for that matter. There are days when we are not okay, and it's completely valid. Never think you don't have the right to."

Hearing Spencer say that relieves some of the pressure on your head, but you can't help but think about your teammates' words throughout the morning.

Separating yourself from Spencer to look at him, your eyes still denote your inner struggle.

"What if they are right? What if they are right when they say I shouldn't make so much fuzz and rather think about doing my job well?"

Spencer cups your cheeks so you can look at him.

"They are not. Okay? By any means, you are the most professional person I have ever met in my life. Not only that, you are also the most compassionate, selfless, and willing to help to the fullest extent of your capacity. Does JJ need help babysitting Henry? You don't think twice. Does García need assistance organizing a girls' night? You are the first one to be there. Does Hotch need to finish a stack of reports in one night? You offer to help him. Does Derek need a backup to kick his way into a place and catch the unsub? You're the first to watch his back."

You are indeed like that, and you do all that. But you've never seen it as something extraordinary. For you, being part of a team and a family means all that and more.

"And that doesn't even scratch the surface of what you have been to me.

My love, you have been the person who has entitled me to open my heart and love without reservation. You have taught me to trust and that asking for help when you feel bad is okay. You are the light of my life, and I swear I'll do everything in my power so you can see the wonderful person you are and that you deserve all the love and support in the world."

Without a doubt, Spencer has something with his words and eloquence. How can you not believe him? The veil of doubt indeed emerges from time to time, but having someone who is by your side showing you what is really important makes the doubts not cloud your path.

A shy smile appears on your face, your eyes filled with gratitude.

"There she is," Spencer whispers, stroking your cheek with love and never breaking eye contact.

"Maybe I should have listened to you this morning and called in sick," you sigh. Spencer kisses the top of your nose.

"I know you weren't going to do it anyway." 

You giggle because he's right. Spencer knows you too well.

"Lunchtime is almost over. We should come back to work," you remind him. Spencer pulls a face, and you raise an eyebrow at him. "What was that?" You inquire.

Spencer laughs nervously. "It's just I may or may not have made a scene in the conference room earlier, and I may or may not have offered my letter of resignation to Hotch if he didn't allow me to come find you."

"You did what? Spencer, oh my God!" you start laughing. "Does that mean there's a chance we'll both get fired today?"

Spencer thinks about that for a second.

"Honestly? I don't think Hotch would risk losing his two best agents," he decides, winking at you.

"Hope you're right, Dr. Reid. Hope you're right," you voice, grabbing his hand in yours and making the way back to the sixth floor.

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Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers 

[inkdrinkerworld]

i saw this on instagram and felt it was very much in line with your blog's aesthetic rn!!!

could you please do a fic for spencer based on it 🥺

its okay if you are too busy :)

https://www.instagram.com/reel/C6f1T0ju3sP/?igsh=MWZ1OWt4cGx4MWhlcg==

oh this is such a cute comment and such a cute video! spencer would so let you do it!!!

"Spencer, lay still." you're the only one of the two of you moving as you both lay on a picnic blanket.

Spencer's reading his Russian novel and you've gotten bored with your own and transitioned to picking daisies and fitting them in his hair.

He says your name softly, reverent like a prayer. His brown eyes lift to yours and find you smiling, a cheeky smile on your face as you spin a daisy between your fingers.

"How many are in there?" he asks, not wanting to reach a hand up and risk having them all fall out.

"About thirty," you hum, reaching for your phone on the picnic basket to take a picture to show him. "Here, look." Spencer's eyes lighten as he looks at the picture, a smile gracing his own lips.

"There's so many," Spencer turns then, his neck aching from his previous position. "Can I lay in your lap?" he asks, slotting his bookmark between his pages as he twists a little on the blanket.

"Course you can, that's optimal hair flowering position." Spencer chuckles, laying himself carefully in your lap and sighing. "Are your eyes tired, Spence?"

He hums, "A little, I think I may have to transition to my glasses again." you smile secretly, not so opposed to him wearing his glasses again as Spencer is himself.

"Really? The brown ones?" Spencer knows what you mean to ask. He nods all the same. "Those make you look even more handsome!" you compliment, earning a chuckle from Spencer as you weave another flower into his hair.

"I think you're the only one who thinks that. I'm just old now, I'm thirty three and I need glasses now more than ever."

You hum, "Imagine what your prescription would be like if you weren't anti-technology." Spencer laughs again, shaking some of the flowers free from his hair, but you don't mind. It just gives you more time to weave even more into his hair, till it's all just daisies and hardly hair.

[hereforhalstead]

Worry.

NOT PROOF READ

Spencer Reid x reader

Spencer finds out you’re struggling with a case whilst he’s away

Warnings: mentions of violence

*****

It was no secret that you were having a particularly hard week, ever since this case landed on Emily’s desk, you’d struggled.

When people ask how it is working with cannibalistic serial killers, they laugh at how casually you confess that it’s gotten to the point where they don’t really phase you, but this was different.

No, it wasn’t some notorious serial killer who had been on your hit list for years. No it wasn’t a mass shooting, no it wasn’t a mutilated body found dumped at the side of a river.

It was a ‘simple’ abduction, simple being the wrong word to use but that’s all it was.

The mum thought the little girl was with the dad, the dad thinking she was with her mum.

That’s it.

But with every second the case continued and another minute being added to the clock without the girl being reunited with her parents, you felt the task of being able to breathe becoming harder and harder.

Of all weeks, of all cases, why did Spencer have to be away for this one?

He knew you.

He knew how these things affected you.

He would notice how you’d take those extra few seconds to stir your coffee as you gazed off, trying to ground yourself before heading back to the group.

The way you would pick at your fingernails as you absentmindedly stared at the board with pictures and maps sprawled across it.

Even the little things of how you’d end up buying more chapstick that week as you hardly ingested any water and constantly licked your lips in concentration.

He knew you.

Better yet, he knew how to make all of those intrusive thoughts disappear, even if it was just for a few seconds as he pulled you into his arms.

But he wasn’t there.

He wasn’t there to rub light circles into the small of your back as he practically had to force you to take a 5 minute breather in Dereks old office.

He wasn’t there to place his hand on your knee as he noticed it bouncing under your desk to settle your anxiety.

He wasn’t there to offer you that reassuring soft smile from across the room, all of your problems seemingly disappearing in those few seconds.

He wasn’t there.

****

It had now been the longest 18 hours of your life, adrenaline still pumping through your veins as you pinned yet another suspects mugshot to the board.

Standing back to analyse the board, you felt as though you’d been doing the exact same thing for hours and was getting no where.

If Spencer was here, he would have this solved and the little girl reunited with her parents by now, was all you could think.

And who was that helping? Oh yeah. No one.

You ran your fingers through your hair, lightly tugging at the roots in frustration as you knew time was running out. You knew the time frames and statistics on missing children and that clock was quickly counting down.

You didn’t have any children, not yet anyway.

But you did have 2 nephews from your mums side of the family and 2 godsons with thanks to JJ, and all you could think was if one of them went missing.

You could feel the tears brimming on your eyes, your vision becoming blurry as you still tried to remain focused on the board in front of you.

You tried to take some deep breaths but your lungs felt as small as peanuts as they failed to let you take one decent breath.

You groaned in annoyance, hanging your hands low on your hips as you threw your head back with a huff to regain some composure.

“You feeling like this, isn’t going to help that little girl” you cursed yourself in a whisper, wiping your eyes before grabbing some papers off the table to take back to your desk.

As you turned, your heart dropped as Emily stood with her arms folded and sympathetic look swept across her face.

She cared for you, of course she cared for the whole team but you were different.

She’d always had a soft spot for you and joked that she insisted that she would take you under her wing when you first joined.

Truth is, she saw you as a daughter, dare she admit, her motherly instincts always kicked in when she saw you like this.

“Wanna talk?”

She broke the silence, still stood in the doorway, blocking you from leaving.

“I’m good Emily, thank you” you lied, still grasping at the papers on the desk and shoving them into a rough pile.

She watched as you continued, papers slowly falling out of your hands as you admitted defeat and returned the stack to the table.

“You miss him, huh?”

Her smile was sincere, her head slightly tilted with her eyes narrowed in a inch of sadness.

“Don’t profile me” You mocked, ushering past her in the doorway and into the corridor, stopping just outside as she shrugs

“Honey, you don’t need to be a profiler to see that. Just need to have eyes” she huffs in amusement “you need to talk to him, tell him how you’re feeling. You know he would want to know”

You leant against the wall, running your hands over your face as your mind flashed to how he would naturally bring his hands to yours to remove them when you did that.

Placing gentle kisses to the palms of your hands as he intertwines your fingers together in distraction.

“He hasn’t even called, Emily” you pull your phone from your pocket, holding it up to her for her to see the black screen

“Is it on?” She innocently questioned, eyebrow raised in suspicion

“Is it on? What kind of qu-“ oh. You tapped the screen and nothing.

It had run out of battery, god knows how many hours ago and you didn’t even realise.

“You wanna know how I know it wasn’t on?” she taunts

“Wha-“ she was quick to cut you off

“I don’t think I have ever received so many messages and calls from him than I have over the past few hours” she confesses “better yet I don’t think I’ve ever received so many messages from anyone. Ever”

“He’s been on at me non stop Y/N, he’s trying to get through to you” Her tone was soft, her gaze on you was sad “He’s worried about you, we all are”

“I’m fine” you shrugged “just tired”

Emily glanced over her shoulder, returning her attention back to you as she threw her hands up in exclamation

“oh! I was just checking if there was someone behind me or that was actually me you thought you could lie to”

“Very funny” you scoffed “just please don’t tell Spencer, he has enough on his plate and I don’t want him to worry”

You pushed yourself off the wall to head back to your desk, stopping in your tracks as you noticed the grimace on her face

“Emily.” You pressed “promise me, you won’t tell Spencer”

All she did was fold her arms, scratching just above her eyebrow as she shrugs “I can promise not to tell him again”

“Wha-“ you were cut off by an all too familiar cough from behind you, your eyes widening as Emily offers you a weak smile

“sorry” was all she could mouth as you shut your eyes in anticipation

Before you could stop yourself, your body had turned to now face a disheveled looking Spencer stood before you.

“Spence!” You exclaimed, pushing down your anxieties and worries as you walked towards him, arms open, ready to pull him into you when you noticed the furrow between his brows

“You don’t think I worry about you?” He questioned, hands shoved into his pockets as his glare down on you was enough to stun you

“Spencer I ju-“ you tried to explain.

Was he annoyed with you?

“Have you eaten?” His tone was sharp

“Yes!” You hit back

“Garcia actually bought in some cupcakes this morning so I had one with sprinkles for breakfast”

He stared over the top of your head, glancing behind you with a shrug on his lips

“the one that’s still on your desk, a small bite taken out of the side? Probably stale and crusted on the edges. That one?”

You swallowed, folding your arms to try and distance yourself

“Have you had any water?”

You rolled your eyes at his questioning, confused if he was stood in front of you because he actually cared or was just trying to make a point

“yes, next question”

His brows were raised, clearly not expecting you to answer so soon or so bluntly

“Baby, I’m not trying to be difficult”

You watched as his whole demeanour changed in a split second, his shoulders dropped as his eyes softened, his hand reaching to cup your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“I just need to know you’re taking care of yourself when I’m not here”

“Spence, I don’t need you to look after me” you hissed “I’m not a child”

The hand that was lightly hooked under your chin dropped to your waist, a slight pull to bring you into him as his other hand reached run along your jawline.

“How do you feel about your plants when you go away?”

You furrowed your brows in confusion, scanning his face, expecting him to crack a smile but he remained serious.

“Spence, wh-“ you tried to interject but he was quick to cut you off

“Just answer the question”

You huffed “I worry they won’t get the proper care and attention they need and won’t grow”

You realised his point as the words fell from your lips, the corners of his mouth pulling into a soft smile as he knew you were understanding his methods

“That isn’t the same thing” you chuckled, lightly pushing your hands on his chest as you left them there to rest against him “I’m not a plant Spence, I’m an adult”

“Right, but when I’m away, all I do is think about you” he rambled.

Fighting your mind from focusing on the feeling of his thumbs padding into the now slightly exposed skin at the bottom of your shirt

“We spoke on the phone this morning and you said you were fine, so imagine my surprise when Emily tells me you’re struggling”

You had to take a second to look away, unable to face the disappointed glare he was shooting you.

“You didn’t even think to tell me?”

“If Dr Spencer Reid couldn’t detect it in my voice through a phone, he’s a terrible profiler” you tried to crack a joke, falling very heavily on an unamused Spencer.

Silence fell over the pair of you as you sighed

“You were busy”

“Baby, please look at me” his hand returned to the side of your face, a light nudge to return your attention to him.

“I am never too busy when it comes to you”

You could hear the hurt in his voice, followed with his puppy dog eyes in full affect as he stares down at you.

“You got that?”

You nodded, allowing your head to fall and rest into his chest, Inhaling the scent you called home.

“I’m sorry” was all you could muster, unsure if he even heard you as his jacket probably drowned out the sorry attempt of your voice

You felt him drop a kiss to the top of your head, confirming he did in fact hear you.

“I don’t need you to be sorry pretty girl, I just want you to tell me when you’re struggling so I can help”

You retracted from his chest, eyes roaming over his features that were filled with such adoration for you with a soft smile.

“Promise you’ll do that for me?”

You nodded “I promise”

You lightly chuckled as he held up his little finger “if there’s one thing I was taught, it was that you can never break a pinky promise”

You hooked your finger into his, watching as his lips planted a soft kiss to your intertwined grip

“Come here” he grinned, bringing his hand to the back of your head to pull you into him, finally pressing his lips onto yours.

“Now” he stuttered between peppering kisses over your face “show me where these cupcakes are”.

[flow33didontsmoke]

hi! i'm not sure if ur taking fic request atm, but if ever u r, can i ask for a fic where f!reader also works for the bau, she is hotch's daughter, and she is dating spencer reid? 🥹 thank uuuuu

hi there ! i’d write it with pleasure, tysm for your request. :) (reminder: english is not my first language so I might be wrong/get lost in naming stuff lmao. it’s also my first fic since quarantine.💀🙏)

“That’s kinda weird”; Three times getting noticed by Hotch + one where he gets confronted.

pairing: Spencer Reid x Hotchner!f!Reader (playlist)

summary: see request

warnings/type: angst, fluff, mention of a sex life, mention children kidnapping, no mention of Y/n, can be read as gn reader, SFW, not proofread (my bad i’m season 2 and being fed with fanfictions), fear of changing and going forward, reader and Hotch are kinda distant

word count: 1.81k

taglist and asks open.

1. Facial communication

10:07am, Behavioral Analysis Unit, bullpen.

You were sat at your desk, not really far from Spencer, looking up at him from time to time. It’s not as if your relationship was that new but it was still blossoming. However you weren’t over those looks you could give the other, the tiny smile on the corner of your lips when you catch the other’s eyes, mostly when you can't help thinking about last night. Skin against skin, warmth against warmth, and that relaxed feeling when waking up in the morning after those activities. To be honest, it may never fade. Your co-workers would find it cute if they noticed or just laugh at it at first if they catch you at the beginning, but they would stop with time.

It’s been over two months you’re dating, and a year of knowing each other, when you joined the BAU. Somehow, even by being the unit chief's daughter you’ve never got the chance to meet him before, as you were always out or the nose in your studies. Surprising right ? But to your father’s dismay, he would have preferred that it wouldn’t happen. That you would have continued to do your own stuff, become a pianist, instead of deciding to follow the same dangerous path as him AND decide to get in a relationship with one of your co-workers. As if you couldn’t get more involved with them, with a dangerous life that could, will definitely change you. But you were young, stubborn and now in love.

As you looked up at Spencer just to get a brief look at something else than down at your papers, somebody scrap his throat making you look to the side where the sound came from. You locked eyes with your father as he was walking to his office, eyebrows slightly furrowed in your direction. You feel your cheeks heat up and look back down at your work, as if nothing happened. This may be nothing but it was enough to feel embarrassed about, facial communication being important between the two Hotchners. You haven't told him but he is not dumb, it was that protective father scold, the "don't even come next to my daughter" type. Spencer seemed to have noticed that small interaction as he became a bit clumsy with his papers, which made you grin.

2. Longing touches

5:18pm, Kansas City, Kansas.

Here it is, the final moment. The UnSub was finally caught, Albert Schumacher an ex-teacher who couldn't bear the thought of being separated from his beloved job. If he couldn't take care of children, why not making his own kindergarten ?

Because of the sweet month of November, it was already dark at that time, and cold, but not enough to be blinded by the night. The unsub in the car, Spencer was once again to your side, his hand on the small of your back as usual. The case was heavy, but it was finally over. You let out a breath as he was just resting his hand here, stroking his thumb a bit as an attempt to provide you a bit of comfort. Honestly, if he could hold you closer, he would. Even in front of everyone, gluing at your side.

An hour and half later, you decided to take a walk to clear your mind. To warm your heart through Kansas' cold, Spencer decided to keep you company. Through the walk he resisted the urge to take your hand in his, wrap an arm around your waist, hold you, hug you, warming you with his body warmth to keep you from shaking and feeling yours as well. He hated when other people touched him but he never got enough of yours. He kept wanting more even more because of the situation with your father who still didn't know about the two of you.

3. Keeping compagny

9:10pm, FBI private jet, Kansas City, Kansas -> Quantico, Virginia.

It was late, the winter night and cold were almost overwhelming, the case was over, a case involving children disappearing. The flight from Kansas City to Quantico may have been a two hours flight, but everyone was tired from all the efforts given in the last few days, few hours of sleep in the agents' system and the possible small jet lag that might hit the next day, the cold hitting their bones.

When you sat in the jet, you sat as a reflex not next to your father but next to Spencer, seeking comfort to him just like most of your nights after work for the last few months. He didn't realize either that he took the seat where your father was about to sit on, as he just sat to your side, closer than if he was sitting next to anyone else. Your father walked, prepared to sit next to you but stopped when he saw Spencer almost glued to your side in a blink. Instead, he sat in the seat in front of him, keeping a visual on the both of you. It's been a while since he has been observing you, your bond. He knew something was happening, not just because he was your father but also because he knew there was something happening, something above co-working, above friendship.

You were doing your best not to show it even when going back together from a case but right now you just didn't really care hiding this. You were both too exhausted to continue on this, maybe it was the irrationality of tiredness talking but anyway. Everyone knew there was something between the two of you, he would have known a way or another. Fuck the way you planned again and again to tell him, you just want to lean into the other and sleep until the end of the flight.

Everyone took a small nap during the flight except Hotch who was keeping himself busy, thinking back about the details of your position, the way you leaned to the other in your sleep. He thought back about the glances you throw to the other, the touches and the more he thought about it, the more he was upset.

Two hours later, you woke up as long as the other as the plane had landed. You give Spencer a small shake to his shoulder to wake him up. At the same time, you saw your father getting up and giving you a quick look that told a lot. He seemed tense at you but you shake that thought off as Spencer woke up, looking at you. Oh, how you couldn't wait to go back to his apartment and just lie in the bed next to other and have rest.

You both get off the plane and see your father outside. Usually, he would wait for you to at least wish you a good night/evening or something of that kind, but this time no. He didn't go right away but when you got off the plane he was just starting to walk away.

"Good night..?" you said to catch his attention.

It visibly worked as he stopped walking. He looked at you with tired eyes but still with distance in his look.

"Good night..." he answered with a small hesitation. He seemed to want to add something so you just let him talk, even if it was a bit tensed. "Do you need a ride home ?" he added as he proposed you usually, but already knowing the answer this time. Not that he never did but this time he was just sure. He never liked the co-driving with Spencer. You had your driver license and you could afford for a car, why relying on your co-worker even if you lived not so far from the other ? He didn't need to make express his discontent to make himself understood this time. He wasn't waiting for an answer.

"No thanks.. Spencer is driving me back home tonight." you answered, it was a bit awkward but you tried to get past that.

+ Confrontation

He nodded and scoffed a bit. "Yeah, of course."

You felt a tinge of guilt at this, something was wrong. You may know why he reacts like this and you don't think to have the mind at this at the moment, and you don't think he has either. "What do you mean ?" you asked, oblivious.

He faced you, looking at you in the eyes. He was silent at first but finally answered. "You know what I mean." There was a hint of venom in his voice. He kept his voice low enough for you and Spencer to hear. Spencer who was just in the back, tired and uncomfortable. This was clearly not how he wanted to get things clear about your relationship and neither do you.

"Then tell me. Tell me what you mean, what's wrong." You replied, looking at him in the eyes. You knew it would hurt but the conversation had to be done, and if he was going that way then his suspicions would be confirmed that way.

"What's wrong is this," he said, referencing to Spencer and you, giving him a look. "Do you have any idea of how unconscious it is ? Dating your co-worker, really ? And without even preventing anyone, you could get more than suspended, did you even think about your lives ?" he added in his boss tone. Yes, he wasn't just your dad but also your chief, but to be honest, you weren't expecting your unit chief talking to you.

All you did was nod once, looking slightly down before raising your eyes to him again and as you were about to answer, throat tight, but he speaks again.

"I'm not finished. What if one of you gets in danger trying to avoid an something to the other ?" He added, his voice was hiding of emotion by his attitude. You catch a glance of Rossi in the back who was about to call for your dad to calm down a bit, to let his role of chief down to let the father speak. He knew that he just wasn't ready for you to grow up as your relationship looked serious and not just a story without tomorrow. He was still getting used to having you around at the BAU, his daughter, what's left of his family alongside Jack.

You said nothing, letting him cool down. The atmosphere wasn't as tensed but more awkward. "And- and he's too for you. Why didn't you choose someone your age ?" he added after a small blank. You knew it was just an excuse, your gap with Spencer wasn't even too big, around five years. You knew it was an excuse not to say "why didn't you choose someone who's not from the FBI ?", questioning your career choices.

A/N: I'm so sorry I didn't know how to end this so here it is. Might do this series though ? I would like that. I want to make a happy ending but I just can't align more words. I don't think anyone would be interested btw but let me know. Perhaps it made me think about the first chapters of that series "Spencer x Prentiss!Reader" if you read it but I can't explain why lmao. It was so weird how I wrote this: I started by 1 then continued with 3 and the bonus then ended with 2 so I'm sorry if it was short lol

[minswriting]

okay but teaching inexperienced!reid the ways of risky sex!! like leaving a party early or something but you can’t wait because he’s just so cute and just pulling over somewhere quiet and absolutely fucking him in the backseat !!

nsfw | mdni | spencer reid x reader | car sex, unprotected sex, p in v, i rushed this 😔😔

after a party at the bureau, you and spencer were driving back to your apartment. you were dressed in a beautiful red dress that shimmered with each street lamp that you guys drove past while spencer was dressed in a suit. neither of you drank, not wanting to make a fool out of yourselves in front of your co-workers. however, to say you were horny was an understatement.

spencer looked g o o d. his curls framed his face so nicely, looking messy while also looking perfect. his suit seemed as though it was tailored to his frame, accentuating his small muscles. it was why you guys had left the party early, neither of you could wait to get your hands on each other.

“i can’t wait any longer,” spencer sighed as he pulled over on the quiet road. it was semi-late, almost midnight so no one was on the roads at all. “i need you now,” he said as he put the car in park.

“god i need you too,” you exclaimed, unbuckling your seat belt. and within a few movements, spencer’s seat was pushed back while you crawled onto his lap, straddling him as he kissed your lips.

the two of you have never had sex anywhere else other than the bedroom. however, recently, you have been teaching spencer how to be more adventurous with sex and boy was he a quick learner. you had, in passing, mentioned the idea of car sex at some point. but you hadn’t expected it to be tonight. though you most certainly were not complaining.

you kissed spencer heatedly, making out with him as his hands explored your body through your dress. you reached a hand between the two of you, moving it down to his belt buckle as you began to undo it. “i need you inside me, spence,” you whispered.

spencer let out a small whimper at your words. he looked down at his hard cock through his trousers before looking back up at you. “i need to be inside of you, baby,” he whispered back.

you unzipped spencer’s pants, undoing them just enough to expose his cock. spencer grabbed your dress, bunching it up. “neither of us decided to wear underwear, huh?” he whispered to you.

you let out a breathless chuckle, nodding your head. “i guess not.” you grabbed the base of spencer’s cock, causing him to whimper from the touch as you guided his member to your cunt. you eased yourself onto his cock, letting out a small whine.

“oh fuck,” spencer moaned as he finally felt your wet and tight walls around his cock, closing his eyes in pleasure.

when his cock was all the way inside of you, you stayed still for just a moment, adjusting to having him inside of you. you looked around outside the car windows, ensuring that no one was around. and the finally, you started moving up and down spencer’s length. “oh my god,” you gasped, putting your hands on his shoulders.

spencer’s hands went around your waist as you rode his cock. he leaned forward to bury his face in your neck. “you feel so fucking good, so good.”

“you fill me up so good, spence,” you said breathlessly as you moved faster on his cock. you closed your eyes in pleasure, throwing your head back as you rode him. his cock was hitting deep inside of you, making you see stars pretty much. it always did. and you always loved spencer’s cock. just as much as he always loved your pussy.

spencer began to babble into your skin, giving you praises about how good your pussy was, how you’re always so good to him, you absolutely beautiful you were. and it all spurred you on. you let out a choked moan as you angled yourself so his cock hit your g-spot repeatedly.

“am gonna cum, oh my god, i’m so close, baby,” spencer moaned, meeting your hips with his own thrusts.

“o-oh fuck,” you whined, grinding your hips. “me too, spence. please cum for me, need you to cum inside me.”

and with your words, spencer let out a pained sounding chuckle and a “holy shit,” as his cock stiffened and he came inside of you. he filled you up with his cum, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. you let out a high pitched moan, his orgasm making yours happen as well. your walls clenched around his cock as your thighs started shaking.

when the both of you finally, the two of you breathed heavily. the desire that you both felt had finally been satiated. you eased off of spencer’s cock, maneuvering yourself back to the passenger seat. the both of you relished in the post orgasmic glow, not speaking a word.

and after about five minutes, spencer tucks himself back into his pants before turning the car back on. “i’m going to fuck you again when we get to your apartment,” he stated, glancing at you with a grin. he then turned back to the road, driving once more.

you laughed, tugging your dress down. “sounds like a fantastic plan to me.”

[spencereid-reads]

the whole world | s. reid

wc: 3.4k words // warnings: english isn't my first language! soooo much fluuuuuffinessss, swear words maybe? NOT proofread as you can see., a kid, spencer being cute, aaah idk what else, i think this sucks but it's mother's day today where i live and for some reason i couldn't stop thinking about dad!spence so this was born. (ha, that was unintentional)

dad!spence x mom!fem!reader

you’re not really sure what wakes you up.

if it’s the change of temperature in the bed, a sign that spencer had recently gotten up and started his day. or if it’s the small, soft footsteps running around the house.

you know it’s taking everything in your little hazel not to spoil the mother’s day surprise she’s been working on at school. one of the many features she and her father share is their fascination to talk and talk about anything and everything, and more often than not, you are the person they tell everything to. so your daughter had been in a bit of a predicament since you first picked her up from school on a monday afternoon.

“had fun today, haze?” you asked, buckling her into her seat in the back of your car.

“yeah,” she nodded, kicking her legs in the air.

“what did you do?” it was the same routine every day, and she was ready to begin telling you all about the new special project they started working on when suddenly she heard her teacher’s voice in her head.

‘it’s a surprise for mommy! you all have to try and keep it a secret!’

“can’t say.”

“what?” you asked, leaning back a little, letting her bag drop below her feet.

“miss tate said we can only tell daddy! mommy can’t know until it's mommy day.” she explained.

“ohhh, you’re working on something for mother’s day, lovey?” you smiled as you caressed her cheek, cupping her face with your hand, she leaned into it instinctively.

“...maybe.” she grinned at you.

“okay, honey. you know you can tell me if you want to talk about it, okay? i know you must be so excited, and i promise you i’m not going to be mad, i’m going to love it no matter what it is, got it?” you pressed a few kisses all over her face, your heart melting at the sound of her giggles. “or you can tell daddy when he comes home, he’s good at keeping secrets, you know?”

“yeah! i tell daddy”

and every day leading up to mother’s day, she tried to skip the subject about what she did at school, and as much as you loved that panicked expression on her face, the way her hazel eyes widened and cheeks blushed you decided not to torture her anymore.

she’s so easy to read. just like her father.

her perfect, loving father. who told you to take a day all to yourself that friday leading up to mother’s day, it was also the day when the kids were sent home with the project, so it would also give spence and hazel the chance to hide it and perfect it.

while you enjoyed a day at a spa, filled with massages and pampering, your little loves were at the mall looking for a gift.

“what would you like to give her, haze?” spence asked, looking at his daughter through the rearview mirror. “what do you think mommy would like?”

“well, green is her favorite color. so, green?”

“something green, that sounds nice,” he nodded, his chest nearly trembling as he stole glances at his daughter. five years in and he still found it hard to believe he had a daughter. a child. a perfect, beautiful, smart and kind daughter. who looked so much like him and so much like you at the same time. “i heard her tell auntie em she needed a new handbag.” he suggested,

“we can buy her a green handbag!”

“i think that’s an excellent idea, hazey.” spencer smiled, holding the steering wheel with one hand, the other stretched out towards his child. “high-five,” he said, and felt her tiny hand smack against his, “good girl,” he smiled proudly.

since hazel was still in your womb, you knew she’d be a tall girl. i mean, look at her dad! but at five years old, whilst hazel is tall compared to children her age, she looks tiny when standing next to spencer. her head reached just below his waist, and her arm hurt whenever she walking alongside him because spencer pulled her little hand up to meet his, but she had to stretch so far up and it was just the sweetest sight in the world.

it’s late when you got home that night, thirty minutes past hazel’s bedtime, yet the moment you stepped in you heard the sounds of her favorite cartoon coming from the tv.

blossom instructs her two sisters in a plan to defeat that day’s monster, and you expected to find your own little powerpuff girl running around the living room, but other than the tv, the rest of the house was silent. you kicked off your shoes, walking to the coffee table to turn the tv off when you saw them.

spencer with his back on the couch, somehow his legs bent but still managed to stay upright, and your daughter resting against his chest, his arms around her, keeping her close and safe.

and you took a second or two to soak in the view. spencer’s head was to the side, and hazel was pressed so far into his neck that it’s hard to point out where his curls end and hers begin.

you walked to them, your hand reaching to play with hazel’s hair as you leaned to press a kiss to spencer’s forehead. it’s scary how quickly they capture your undivided attention, just the sight of either of them was enough to make you drop whatever it was you were doing.

“hey,” spencer’s voice was groggy, sleep evident in it and in the way he struggled to peel his eyes open, like his eyelids were begging to stay shut.

“it’s okay, go back to sleep. i’ll take her,” you said, but felt a light tug on your wrist.

“c’mere,” he mumbled, scooting to the back of the couch and making space for you. you gave in, squeezing your way in and adjusting hazel on top of you so you don’t choke with her hair against your mouth. “had fun?” you felt spencer’s hand on your waist, his thumb rubbing circles on your skin, sneaking under your shirt.

“yeah. thank you, needed it,” you don’t know if it’s the busy day you had, or just the sight of your two loves sleeping that made you feel tired, too. you covered a yawn with the back of your hand. “you?”

“mhm,” he hummed in agreement, “hazey couldn’t decide on one thing. said you’d loved so many things. got you everything.”

“spence-” you scolded lightly.

“i know. but you should’ve seen her. too cute. too much like you.”

“like you, you mean.”

“hmm,” he opened one eye, pulling you closer, being careful with your girl on top of you. “like us. she’s got the best of us.”

and she does.

she’s funny and smart like spencer, kind and caring like you.

you don’t know where the sassiness came from, though.

(kidding, it’s all spencer, he wouldn't admit it)

“daddy, can i put a candle?” hazel asks, she’s done with placing the grapes into a bowl and looking for something else to add to your ‘mother’s day pavaganza’, a phrase she’d picked up from hearing auntie penny ask about your spa day, and had repeated to her spencer, who didn't have the heart to correct her when she sounded so adorable.

“i just know those little geniuses have a big mother’s day extravaganza planned for you,” she’d said, just as hazel entered the kitchen.

“on the pancakes?” spencer asks, she nods. “sure,”

the drawer slams a little louder than she’d intended, her mouth forming a perfect ‘o’ as her eyes widen in shock.

“sorry, daddy!” she runs to him, one hand on the stool she’s currently trying to climb, the other fisting spencer’s pajama pants. “here,” she hands him the pink birthday candle you’d used for her birthday cake.

“thank you, hazey,”

you chuckle as you listen to them, you can’t hear all of it, but you can tell she’s getting louder the more excited she gets. it’s only a matter of minutes before the chaos that had been in the kitchen joins you in your bedroom. you pretend to sleep, curling into spencer’s side of the bed, and closing your eyes.

“she’s asleep! daddy, can i wake her?” you hear her laughing when you fake snore.

“go ahead, haze, gentle,” he reminded her, even though he knew you were awake.

“mommy,” you hear her running to the other side of the bed, “mama,” she climbs in next to you, lying next to you, you feel her breath on your face. then she presses wet, sloppy kisses on your cheek, and you swoon.

“hmm, who's giving me such sweet kisses?” you ask, being met with a grinning hazel as you open your eyes.

“it's mommy day!” she exclaims, arms looping around your neck with a strength you hadn't expected, “love you mommy,”

“i love you too, my angel, so, so, so much,” you wrap your arms around your little girl and hug her tight, setting your back against the mattress. you kiss all over her face and head, her little hands sticky and stained in maple syrup and jam.

“made you mommy day food,” she laughed as you tickled her sides. “daddy!”

spencer has taken residence by the end of the bed, the tray filled with breakfast set carefully on his lap.

“happy mother's day, honey,” he whispered against your lips, once the tray has been set in front of hazel, who can't help but pick a few slices of fruit to help herself.

“thank you, love you,” you kissed him once more, running a hand through his hair as you turn to look at your girl. “is it yummy?” you ask her as she pops a grape in her mouth, she nods, “i bet it's cause you and your daddy made it.”

it's a few hours later, after you're all showered and dressed, that you go downstairs and find the living room all decorated, with balloons and strings and three pieces of paper stuck to the wall that read ‘happy’, ‘mommy’, ‘day’ in spencer’s handwriting, but drawings made by hazel surrounding the words.

“mommy close your eyes,” you're sitting on the couch, all the gifts that hazel couldn't choose from are now open and on the coffee table. turns out the other gifts had just been little trinkets, a headband, a small bracelet, a keychain. “it's time for the surprise!”

“what surprise? i didn't know there would be a surprise!” your heart melted at her laughter.

“daddy cover her eyes,” she orders, and spencer makes his way around the sofa, standing behind you, he leans down, tilting your head back and pressing his lips on your temple.

“i’ve got it, hazey,” he nearly purrs against your skin, and as spencer continues his soft attack on your face, you hear hazel running through the house, “we hid it in my office,” he pulls back a little, staring at you with so much love.

“thank you for today,” you whisper, your cheeks were now hurting from the permanent smile that had been on your face the entire day.

“it's nothing, you deserve the world, honey.” and he means it. when he was young he'd pushed the idea of love to the side, with his job and his lack of social skills it was hard to picture a future with a family, but here he was. thanks to you. “i love you so much, you've got no idea,” he leaned down again, this time kissing your lips, accomplishing two things at once.

kissing you, and getting you to close your eyes.

“ready mommy?” you'd been so wrapped up in your husband that you missed your daughter walking back to you.

you looked down to see a scrapbook (just a few colored paper sheets binded by ribbon), a picture of you and hazel on the cover, in the middle.

“angel, this is beautiful,” you coo through teary eyes, embracing her fully before you even looked at the rest of the book.

the three of you settled on the sofa, with hazel between you two as she explained why she picked the pictures, something she'd done with spencer’s help. the pages were decorated with crayon drawings, glitter hearts, and stickers.

the last picture brought even more tears to your eyes, you were sitting in a hospital bed, with spencer by your side, his hand wrapped around your back, the both of you staring down at the new little baby that had just been born.

hazel’s first ever picture.

“look at this, hazey, you were so tiny,” you swallowed a lump in your throat, “and look at you now, you're so big, my sweet girl.”

“daddy said this is the day you became a mommy,"

“technically i was a mommy when you were in my belly,” you patted your stomach, “but my entire life was changed the minute you were born, i loved you before i even knew you, and i didn't know i could feel that much love for someone so little. hazey-” you said, shuffling her around so she was sitting on your lap, spencer pressed your back against his chest. you looked back at him, kissing his cheek.

“your daddy and i love you so much. it's an honor being your parents. every day i thank the stars that you're our little baby, that we get to raise you and see you grow. thank you for making me your mommy,”

“love you, mommy,” she nestled against your neck, “love you, daddy,” she reached up, puckered lips against spencer's other cheek.

“love you, hazey, you're my wish come true,” spencer placed a kiss on the top of her head.

that night, as you get ready for bed, feeling tired from all the emotions of the day, you snuggle against spencer's side.

“thank you for today. for helping haze,”

“of course, sweet, i told you, you deserve the world,” his lips meet yours in a gentle, slow kiss.

“i already have my whole world with me,” you tell him, voice full of sleep and love. “thank you for giving me my world.”

and if spencer had a time travel machine he would tell his younger self to not lose hope. the best years of his life were yet to come, his world wouldn't end when members of his chosen family left the team, his whole world and family were on the way.

[moonstruckme]

bonfire! spencer reid + only one bed trope pls 💕💕

Thanks for requesting!

Spencer Reid x bau!reader ♡ 535 words

You wouldn’t have pegged Spencer for a heavy sleeper. 

You suppose it makes sense. With a brain like his and a schedule like your team’s, good rest when he can get it is probably essential. You’d all worked late into the night tonight, so late that Hotch had decided you should just sleep here and get on the jet home in the morning. Rooms at the hotel had been purchased for your team for the last two nights, but none of you had used the first one, so when you and Spencer had gotten here a few hours ago it had come as a surprise that you’d been double-booked. Or single-booked, maybe. 

Two cards, one room. One singular bed, plus a pull-out couch that you’d both offered halfheartedly to take before collapsing into the plush mattress and 300 thread-count sheets. You’d both changed into your pajamas and fallen asleep almost instantly, at least two chaste feet of space between you on the bed. You’d woken hardly an hour later with an embarrassing pool of drool on your pillow and a long-fingered hand curled in the material of your shirt. 

You can’t decide whether to be grateful for the fact that Spencer doesn’t so much as stir when he hooks an angle over yours, urging you closer to him almost entreatingly while your fatigued heart starts kicking in your chest. You stay facing away from him, looking into the pitch darkness. You can’t move any farther away without edging off the bed, but you try anyway, inching until one of your legs is dangling off the mattress, and when you slip the other from beneath Spencer’s ankle there’s a soft, plaintive sound from behind you. His fingers wind tighter into your shirt. 

You freeze. 

Spencer’s breaths are deep and even, and you marvel at it as he crosses his ankle over yours again, bare calf sliding against yours and interlocking your legs more securely. And frankly, you’re too tired to fight it. 

You scoot backwards on the bed. It’s twice as easy as it had been going the other direction, probably because of the way the mattress dips in the middle or Spencer’s slight tug or maybe even some sort of magnetic pull like in those books Penelope’s always reading, you suppose anything is possible. Whatever the case, it seems to be a relief for you both. Spencer’s other hand wraps around your middle as soon as you’re close enough, gentle and contented, and he’s warm enough to make the freezing air blasting through the A/C feel comfortable. 

His quiet sigh hits the back of your neck as you both settle, a few careful inches still between you. Even unconscious, you think politeness must be ingrained in Spencer, because his touch stays over the material of your shirt, courteous and unmoving. You let your fingers stroke over his once, and they twitch in his sleep. 

You don’t remember closing your eyes, but heavy as they are it can’t take long. When the blue light of early morning cuts through the drawn curtains and Spencer’s limbs stiffen where they’re twined around you, his breath catching in surprise and embarrassment, you’ll pretend you’re a heavy sleeper, too.

[bingbongsupremacy]

Marry Me?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader

Warning: I haven't seen criminal minds in a bit so idk if the Spencer in this is 100 percent accurate

Summary: Spencer asks you to marry him at the most random time. Garcia does not approve.

*Not Proof Read* ABC List Criminal Minds

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

" That's horrifying. " I wrinkle my nose at the sight of the bloody decapitated woman in the photos lying scattered around the table. This is why I work with Garcia.

Sticky notes are messily pasted onto the photos, illegible scribbles covering them.

" It is. " Spencer agrees.

" Why did you call me in here? " I ask, confused why my boyfriend called me in if he isn't going to expand further on the topic.

Spencer picks up a large Manila folder and shuffles through the contents. " I think I might have figured out the pattern we were looking for. " He pulls out a small stack of papers, each with the name of a high school in the corner. " The Unsub is killing girls from the same high school. Each girl attended the school at a different year. It's like he's going down the line of years. If I'm right, he'll been picking a girl from 2002 next. "

I scan over one of the papers he hands me. " Shit, you're right. " Excitement fills my body. We've been working on this for hours. He figured it out! " Spencer, this is fucking amazing! You figured it out! We need to tell the others. "

" Yes. I also think I might know who the next potential victim is based on other patterns I picked up along the way. " Spencer rambles on. " I think he might be going after Piper Johnson next, the woman we saw on the news interview. We need to check if she's okay. By the way, do you want to get married? "

His words come out so fast it takes me a second to process.

" W-What? " My eyes widen. Did I hear correctly?

Spencer is looking at me his gaze steady. He looks serious. " I know it's a little random, but this case really had me thinking. We don't know how much time we have together. God forbid one of us gets hurt or worse. I don't want to waste any more time with you. I love you and I want to be with you. I'd be the happiest man on earth if you said yes. "

For a moment I forget we're surrounded by gruesome shit. All I can think about is Spencer and our future. All of our plans.

A large smile makes its way onto my face. " Of course I will, Spence. I love you. " I smash my face into his, our lips meeting and immediately sending shivers through my body.

" I love you too, Y/N. So fucking much. " His voice rumbles against my lips.

" You did not just fucking ask Y/N to marry you in a room surrounded by dead women. Spencer, what the fuck. " A surprised voice interrupts us.

Surprised, Spencer and I pull apart to find the owner.

Garcia stares at us, her mouth hung open in surprise. " And you accepted his proposal? Are you insane? Don't get me wrong, you guys are perfect for each other. This proposal was just...so...gory. " She glances at the pictures around the room. " I'll help you plan out a real proposal, alright? Let's press pause on this until tonight. I'll have it all ready by the time you guys get back. " She says confidently, taking on the task we didn't ask her to do.

" It's really not that big of a deal- " I begin.

" It'll be done by tonight. " She says sternly, holding her hand up to stop any argument. " Now, you go let the others know what's going on with the unsub. " She points at me. " You are staying here with me while we set everything up. "

She gently pulls me towards the door, snatching the pack of information out of Spencer's hand.

" But-! "

She doesn't let me finish, swiftly kicking me out of the room.

Behind her, Spencer stand watching me in surprise.

Garcia shuts the door in my face, leaving me standing on the other side alone.

This day has been so confusing.

[plutoispurplw]

I Can Fix Him

Summary: You became friends with Spencer before he went to prison.

Couple: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Little angst, mention of prision and murder, friend to lovers

A/N: I think someone should take TTPD out of my hands...Plss reblog it if you liked it

You met Spencer in a library, you couldn't reach for a book and he helped you out and then you invited him for a coffee. 

After that you two became friends surprisingly because your ways of viewing the world were extremely different, you two started to spend more time together talking about anything, series, music, or normally books. 

The conversations that you two had were your favorite thing, listening to him rambling was the best of all.  

Then fastly two months after you met him you fell for him, it made you feel lovesick like some kind of teenager, and it was hard to not kiss him when he got closer to you when watching a movie to tell you about some random fact. 

Then all went down because out of nowhere, he disappeared, you tried to call him and text him but he wouldn’t answer you. 

When you went to his apartment to see him and ask him why he didn't answer you, you only found his teammates that he had told you about. They only told you that he was traveling, you know they were lying. 

You felt hurt and decided to just forget him, you started to try to date more people but in the end, you didn't feel anything, his name was written on your heart. 

After four months you received a message from him telling you to go to his apartment and talk about why he disappeared, you accepted only to finally give it closure.  

When you knocked on the door and he opened it, he stood there for a moment without saying anything, and in the next one, he wrapped his arms around you and gave you a tight hug. 

Then he quickly pulled away and started to speak. "Sorry for doing that, I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable." He stared a you with his hypnotizing eyes that had you in a trance. 

"Don't worry, you don't make me uncomfortable." You assured him, that the last thing he had done was that he had only caused a glitch on your brain for a moment. 

He gave a weak smile while he moved to the side to let you go to the living room, which made your heart go crazy.  

Inside you, you were hitting your head against a wall, you fell again for him, it was truly ever over? 

You sat on the couch while looking at the number of books that he had, every time you saw it there was more even if it felt like it couldn't. 

He walked towards you and sat on the opposite side of the couch, the silence felt uncomfortable, and you decided to start talking. 

"I know this sounds too forward but, where have you been? You just disappeared out of nowhere and your teammates say you were traveling, so why didn't you answer my calls or messages?" 

He stayed quiet and looked at the floor, he didn't say anything or answer your questions and for a moment you thought about leaving but then he started to talk. 

"I was in Mexico, in prison for three months and then a month ago I got free." His eyes became motionless for a moment, you could see how life left his eyes for a glimpse. 

After he said that you stayed quiet and in shock, many questions running through your mind. "What happened?" Your voice was filled with a preoccupation for him. 

"I was accused of killing a woman, someone made me look like the guilty." His voice sounded angry for a moment. 

You notice how his jaw tightened for a moment but then his factions softened when he saw your expression of sadness.

 "I'm so sorry, I didn't know that's what happened." Your voice sounded wobbly, he caressed your hair a for second to comfort you when he saw tears about to spill from your eyes. 

He was the one who should have been comforted but he didn't care and kept trying to calm you. 

Then a thought popped into your head "If you were back one month ago why didn't you call me?" Your voice sounded a little hurt by that action. 

"I thought you were mad at me and didn't want it to make it worse." He sounded guilty as if he had done something horrible to you. 

"Even if I was I wouldn’t let you alone on this, believe me." Now it was your turn to comfort him, you put your hand on his cheek while you said that. 

You felt how his gaze fell on your lips for a glimpse of a moment, he then looked into your eyes and you couldn't keep your emotions inside you for another moment. 

You kissed him on his lips, and to your surprise, he reciprocated. The kiss was gentle and sweet, it was heaven kissing him. 

Then he pulled away and looked regretful, you felt how your heart sank at that sight, maybe you were wrong to think that he liked you back. 

"Sorry for kissing you, I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable." Your gaze fell to the floor, you felt like you wanted to die in that moment.

 "It's not that, it's just that I have changed in these months, I'm not the same man that you had met in the past." His voice was more quiet, he sounded insecure about him. "I don't want to hurt you or damage your form of viewing the world." 

When he said that, the only thing that you could think was that you didn't care if he ruined your vision of the world, you only wanted him and you knew that you could try to fix the parts of him that had been broken. 

Your hands went to his face, holding it gently. "I know that and I don't care, please let me be here for you, let me be your support." 

He kissed you and hugged you, you hid your face in the crook of his neck, it felt nice to have him back.

[mcntsee]

The real barbie is Y/n.

Y/n’s a doctor, a cop, a scientist, an agent, vet, hero, villain, astronaut, lawyer, spy, criminal, artist, chef, engineer, psychologist, architect, journalist, firefighter, event planner, mechanic, photographer, musician, actor, interior designer, bartender, fashion designer, barista, florist, forensic scientist, flight attendant, profiler, tour guide, translator, etc.

[inkdrinkerworld]

lemon poppy seed cake for me, please! Post prison Spencer and shy!reader who gets so nervous around him that they become the clumsiest person ever

You don’t mean to be a clutz, but it happens every time Spencer is around. He just happens to witness your worst moments and it makes you want to avoid him. 

Your most recent clumsy moment while Spencer was around, was you rushing to the ME’s office and slipping on something on the bottom of your shoe and almost hitting your head right into the door jam. 

Spencer catches your arm before you can, steadying you with a concerned look. “You’re going to end up needing stitches if you’re not careful.” he murmurs, you shake your head. 

“I’m careful, you just always witness my clumsiest moments.” your voice is soft and you can’t bring yourself to meet Spencer’s eyes. They’re too brown, warm and kind and it makes you feel like your entire body is a live wire that will result in your combustion. It’s made even worse when he trails his hand from your upper arm to your wrist. Spencer must know what all this closeness does to you. 

He hides a smile, stroking his thumb over your inner wrist. “C’mon, let’s go see what the ME has.” The little shit doesn’t drop your hand and you both walk at a much slower pace than you’d been going at before.

[hereforhalstead]

In desperate need to read Spencer x reader in a heavy make out session but they aren’t allowed to touch each other and they see who gives in first